


His Body Is His Canvas, And So Is My Life

by aikachii413



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, DJ Dave, Drinking and Smoking, Hispanic Karkat, Humanstuck, Later sexual content, M/M, Slow Build, Tattoo Artist Karkat, Tattoos and Piercings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 14:41:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3900061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aikachii413/pseuds/aikachii413
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider didn't ask for this. All he really needed was someone to help pay rent.</p>
<p>He thinks it's cliché, but his new roommate is bringing color to his life and he doesn't know what to do about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Dab Of Brown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first fan fic I've written in the longest time, as well as the first I've ever posted here on AO3. Please go easy on me. ;u;
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Homestuck. Neither do I think I'm that great of a writer.
> 
> Additional Note: This work is also inspired by several things! There are too many to list down, so I'll only mention them if they contributed to a chapter.
> 
> I'm dedicating this to my friends, Rox and Ia! I would also like to thank AO3 user Chantelle, a good friend of mine, for checking out my plot outline even though she isn't a Homestuck. The support is well-appreciated. xD

**(01) A Dab Of Brown**

It's a relatively cold Friday evening in the middle of September. The night is young and the streets are only just starting to get filled with people. There are men and women walking home from work, while students of all ages are celebrating the end of the week, summer still not far behind them. There are families leaving their homes for a nice dinner out, as well as significant others walking side by side, wondering where to go next.

The Mutiny has yet to be packed with regulars. Only a few tables are occupied, making the otherwise small bar and restaurant feel rather large and empty. This is remedied when Camera Obscura's " _French Navy_ " starts playing from the speakers set up all over the room. The Mutiny's owner walks from behind the bar, after having set up the playlist, and back to her friends at the table in the far corner.

Her name is Roxy Lalonde. Tonight, she and her friends are celebrating the third anniversary of her relationship with stand-up comedian John Egbert. They are also celebrating the fact that they are _finally_ moving in together. With them are Roxy's best friend, Jane Crocker; Roxy's younger sister and John's good friend, Rose, along with her girlfriend, Kanaya Maryam; and finally, John's best friend - Dave "Too Cool For You" Strider, who may not be the star of the evening but is quite definitely the star of this story.

"Sorry about that, guys," Roxy says as soon as she's back on her seat, "Running this place on my own, lonesome self tends to make me forget things. Jane's usually in charge of the music. But hey," she grins, "Kudos to her for starting up her own bakery, right? More reason to celebrate!"

Jane, sitting across from her, laughs. "This is your night, Roxy. Besides, I won't be opening 'til next week. I'll treat you guys to cake then, but for now, the spotlight's on you."

Roxy's grin widens but Dave clears his throat to interject. "I don't mean to interrupt, but the spotlight you're all speaking of is on _my_  best friend, too."

"Oh, I'm sorry, cool kid. But it sounds to me like you want the spotlight to be on _you_ ," Roxy responds with a laugh of her own, "But be my guest. I apologize for interrupting your best man speech. It's not like I don't have to run my own business or anything."

"OK, first of all, the spotlight is on you two and I wouldn't have it any other way. It is not on me, as I'm not the one dating a hot chick, let alone sharing a roof with one. Second of all, you're doing a great job here. I'm going to kick anyone who says otherwise. Just call me up when someone does, and I'll get here faster than John will - unless of course he was here already. And third of all, as much as I love you, Lalonde, you have _got_ to get a hold of your magical, frolicking ponies. They're going crazy and making a mess of your sparkly little ranch. I'm not marrying John off to you just yet. Bros like us still need to hang out, too. Once a day in fact. It's written somewhere on a hidden page in the Bro Code. It's totally a thing that exists."

"Aww, Dave!" This time, it's John's turn to laugh. "It's not like you won't ever see me again."

"I was kidding, John. I'm sick of your face. Living with you is like listening to a broken record of 'I Love Barney.' In short, it's a nightmare. Roxy, I wish you the best of luck. You can have him." Dave smirks and takes a sip of his beer.

"Speak for yourself!" John laughs harder. "You can hardly do the dishes properly! I always have to clean up after you. You can hardly do _any_  of the chores, Dave."

"Oh, enlighten me on this ritual that is the proper cleansing of our plates, John. _You_  can't do them right either."

"Dick," John snorts, "You're going to miss me."

Dave grins, and so does everyone else at the table. They all know this to be true. Dave can't and won't deny it; he'll miss John very much.

"So," Roxy smiles, "That best man's speech?"

Dave sighs and leans back against his chair. "What can I say? I honestly don't remember what I was talking about fifteen minutes ago. But the gist of it is that, yes, Egbert, I'll miss you dearly. Roxy, take good care of him. He can be a bit of a baby-" this emits a _Hey!_  from John- "John, you're my best friend but don't you dare hurt Roxy either. You two are too good together, don't ruin it."

Both John and Roxy smile. Beneath the table, their fingers intertwine. Dave is honestly very happy for them, truly, but there is something else that's been bothering him all day.

Rose brings it up as if she's able to his mind. Dave is about eighty percent certain that she can read _anyone's_ mind. It's seriously scary how she just _knows_  things. "So, Dave," she says, "what are you going to do about John's now empty room?"

"Uhh.." Dave starts but is quickly interrupted by John who clearly doesn't seem pleased.

" _Dave!_  Didn't you tell me you already found someone to take the room?"

"Hey, I didn't want you to worry," Dave says defensively, "not when you were about to start a totally new and amazing chapter of your life, as cliché and cheesy as that sounds."

"But the end of the month is right around the corner. You'll have to find someone to help you pay the rent," John reminds him, "I can't lend you any money. We just covered the lease for my apartment with Roxy."

Dave raises his hands. "I know, I know. I'm, uh, working on it."

"If you're really in a tight spot, I could help. My cousin is actually looking for a new place to stay," Kanaya says, finally speaking up that night. Dave almost forgot she was there. Thank the gods that she was, though, because what a miracle!

"There, see?" Dave says, "I've got it covered." John just rolls his eyes and says nothing more, knowing there was no point in arguing with him.

From the corner of his eye, Dave sees Rose lean in and smirk. Dave doesn't have a good feeling about this. "Oh, that's right!" she says, now playfully tracing her pinky around the rim of her martini glass, smirk spreading across her face, "I almost forgot about that. You should meet him, Dave. I think you two will get along _wonderfully_."

 _Lies_ , Dave thinks with a bit of frown, _lies and everyone at the table knows it._  His distaste must have been more obvious than he thought because Rose takes a sip of her liquor and winks at him. Either that, or she just really knows Dave to know when he's bothered by something. It creeps him out. Meanwhile, Kanaya, though seemingly aware of her girlfriend's schemes, is still patiently waiting for an answer.

"It's better than nothing, right?" Jane says, when Dave hasn't spoken yet, before she takes a sip from her glass of water.

Dave sighs and shrugs his shoulders. "I guess. I don't see any other options."

With this, Kanaya smiles. "Great! Honestly, I think this will work out perfectly. Karkat - my cousin - really needs this." Dave can't tell if she was being sincere or if she was in on Rose's mischief. "When and where will it be convenient for you to meet him?"

"Hm... At the apartment, so I don't have to go anywhere and so that he can get a good look at the place," Dave answers, thinking about it as he goes along, "Tomorrow might be on too short notice. I wouldn't mind if he could make it, though. I don't mind meeting him on Sunday, either. Well, except in the evening because I promised my boss I'd take an extra shift for bailing tonight." He gives John a thumbs up who gives him two and a cheeky grin in return.

"If he really can't make it on a weekend, though," Dave adds, "I can do a weekday morning."

"Alright," Kanaya says, happily enough that she almost chirps, "I'll handle it, and I'll be sure to contact you as soon as I hear from him."

Dave nods and the issue is set aside for the meantime. The rest of the night goes on by with Roxy now tending to the regulars that soon come rushing in, Jane helping her while she still could, John asking advice for his next performance, Rose and Kanaya retreating to their own little world, and Dave nervously wondering what this _Karkat_  was like. He surely must have some character to go by a name like that. And why was Rose looking at him like she was obviously planning something, without being the least bit discreet? Kanaya is practically a _saint_ , so how bad can her cousin really be?

\- - -

Pretty bad, apparently. Dave is honestly not one to judge by looks, but it seems to him that Karkat Vantas is _not_  his ideal roommate. But what else was he expecting, what with Rose actually being excited about this?

Karkat wasn't available the day that followed John and Roxy's celebration, and he had to go to mass on Sunday morning, so he and Dave agreed to meet on Sunday afternoon instead. The fact that Karkat goes to church made Dave assume (and hope) that he was as angelic as Kanaya, but then he started to worry that Karkat was the extremely religious type. Dave had nothing against religion and respects anyone who's able to even be devoted to one, but it just wasn't his cup of coffee.

The assumption that Karkat was extremely religious, however, was immediately crushed when Dave answered the door at 1PM, half an hour earlier than the agreed meeting time, and saw Karkat for the first time.

"Dave Strider?"

"Yeah, the one and only. You're Karkat?"

"Yeah."

Karkat looked skinny, but he was about an inch or two taller than Dave. It was a bit difficult to say when Karkat was leaning against the doorframe, looking at Dave with a disapproving frown. His resting bitch face, maybe? In any case, he didn't seem like a people-person. Dave thinks that this might make things difficult for the both of them in the long run - but only  _if_ they were really going to start living together.

Karkat was dressed in a faded blue jacket over a plain white T-shirt, ripped jeans, and checkered sneakers that looked old and as though they could use a wash - definitely not something Dave would wear to leave a good first impression. Or to church. It's almost impossible for Dave to imagine that this man actually went to mass this morning. Then again, what would Dave know about it?

A soft, gray beanie covered most of Karkat's ears and his dark brown hair, which didn't look well-kept. He had thick eyebrows, one of which had a studded piercing, and his eyes were of a bright hazel-brown color. Underneath them were dark circles that suggested he doesn't get much sleep on a regular basis, but these weren't too noticeable unless up close, considering that he also had dark skin, which was a nice walnut-brown color. His nose was small and his face was a little round, but he had a well-defined and clean-shaven jawline. All-in-all, Dave could see the resemblance between him and Kanaya. Karkat's lips were also almost as thick as hers; they looked pretty soft for a man's lips, and quite frankly, they made him look like he might be a great kisser.

Dave tells himself to back the fuck up. And that he did _not_ just think that.

With the intention of focusing on something else, Dave looks down and notices that Karkat had an olive green serpent tattoo by the curve connecting his neck and shoulder. At the very least, only a portion of it was visible. It seemed to be a large tattoo, most of it hidden beneath the shirt, and Dave catches himself wondering where it leads to. It probably runs through more than half his torso. Maybe even further down to his pelv-

Dave's breath hitches and he jumps when Karkat clears his throat and, to Dave's surprise, waves a hand right in front of his aviator sunglasses.

"Shit," Karkat says, quickly pulling his hand back when he sees Dave look up at him, "I'm sorry. You probably can't see me. Or you _did_  see me, and in which case I feel even more stupid. I mean... you're not blind, are you?"

The question is so brutally sincere that Dave almost laughs. The only reason he doesn't is because he realized he'd just been _studying_  Karkat like a botanist would be studying plants or something. It takes a moment for Dave to collect his composure and shake his head.

"Nah, I just wear shades for the heck of it," he finally says, smirking, "You think I'd actually get that more often, but I don't."

Karkat audibly sighs in relief and straightens himself up. He's definitely at least two inches taller than Dave. "Oh, no _way_. You're kidding," he says, dryly, "Well. You know what I think?"

"That I'm totally cool and absolutely awesome?" Dave answers with a sheepish grin.

"Far from it," Karkat is quick to snarl, "I think you're a douchebag. Only blind people wear shades indoors. Blind people - and _douchebags_."

"Points for honesty and creativity. Congratulations! You're certainly a keeper. Will you be moving in later today, or do you need time to pack your things, _Princess_?" Dave retorts, crossing his arms and leaning against the opposite side of the door frame.

Karkat rolls his eyes and frowns again. "Are you going to let me in or what?"

The question reminds Dave of how long they've been standing there and he quickly stops himself short from coming up with a comeback. He mutters a soft _sorry_ , feeling defeated, and steps aside so Karkat can walk in and so he can shut the door behind him.

The first thing Dave does is give Karkat a short tour around the apartment. It keeps him from staring at the other man, but it doesn't stop him from stealing quick glances every now and then.

The front door of the apartment leads straight to the living room. It had the standard two-person couch, which was blue and faced the door; a simple coffee table, and a television that came together with a DVD player. Dave and John hadn't decorated the room much, thinking it wasn't necessary to do so, so the only other notable things were a white rug on the wooden floor, just beneath the coffee table, the blinds covering all of the windows, and a few plants by the corners of the room.

Right behind the living room was the kitchen, which was smaller, had tiles for the floor, and was separated from the living room by an L-shaped marble counter, which also ran along the left side of the kitchen. There were wooden cabinets, both under the counter and along the wall, where most of the kitchenware is kept. Located also on the left were their sink, stove, and fridge. There isn't much space for a dishwasher, so Dave and Karkat have to wash the kitchenware themselves. Additionally, because Dave and John hadn't bothered to buy a dining table, Dave and Karkat have to eat on the counter. Or on the couch, whichever they preferred. Again, this was _if_  they decided to live together.

To the right of the apartment, before the counter separates the living room and the kitchen, there is a short hallway that leads to the two bedrooms and the single bathroom. The bathroom, located at the end of the hallway, contained the standard sink, toilet and shower. This was also tiled and has been tidied up for show.

The door on the right of the hallway leads to Dave's room, which he was not obligated or willing to show, while the door directly across from it leads to Karkat's room. It's empty, save for a bed by the window, a cabinet across from it and a desk beside it. Karkat takes his time to study the room and Dave thinks he's actually considering it.

After the tour, Dave and Karkat return to the living room. Dave sits on the couch and invites Karkat to sit next to him. He refuses and instead sits on one of the two high stools by the kitchen counter.

"How do you like it?" Dave asks, not sure what to expect or even hope for. Karkat was very quiet, so Dave can't imagine what living with him would be like. Not as fun as living with John, he thinks, and he's not sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, they don't have to get in each other's way. But on the other, Dave imagines it to be... pretty boring. All of that aside, though, should Karkat choose to move in, Dave might not have to worry about rent, so there's that.

"It's alright," Karkat says, looking at the walls. They look horribly bland, now that Dave thinks about it. He kind of regrets not adding any more decoration. "I mean, I'm not asking for much. Plus, the rent's cheaper than that of my last apartment."

"How much was the rent?"

"You don't want to know," Karkat sighs. Dave raises an eyebrow.

"Oh. Uh, well, what _should_ I know? About you, I mean. If we're going to live together, I'm going to need more than your name and the fact you're cousins with Kanaya."

Karkat grows even quieter for the next few moments, like he still has to think of what to say. Thankfully, he's not quiet for long and soon enough, he starts to properly introduce himself.

Karkat is 27 years old, just a year older than Dave, and is a tattoo artist. He owns a tattoo parlor about two blocks away, so the apartment is a good choice for him in the sense that he no longer has to take the subway or the bus. Because he owns the parlor, he has to do some manegerial stuff as well, which can sometimes be difficult for him because he hates math. He's not bad at it, he says, but he doesn't like doing it either. It's fine because he has someone else helping him with the finances. He works with two other people, namely a Sollux Captor who's 22 - he helps with the numbers and is also a freelance programmer - and a Gamzee Makara, who's also 27 and a fellow tattoo artist. Porrim Maryam, who's 31 and is Kanaya's older sister, also works there part-time. She does some blogging and activist stuff on the side.

Their work hours are from 12NN to 8PM but Karkat likes to stay until 10PM in case more customers pass by. He also stays for cleaning up. He arrives at the shop about an hour and a half before opening time to check that everything is neat and tidy and that they're well-stocked, so he tends to get up early every day except on weekends. He doesn't work on weekends unless a client can't make it on any of the weekdays. It's also the reason he couldn't meet Dave the other day. Dave says it's pretty impressive, but Karkat shrugs and says it just comes with running his own small business, nothing to it.

Karkat doesn't share much else about himself after talking about work. Dave asks him about how he met his coworkers. Karkat says it's a long story. So Dave asks about family, but Karkat doesn't want to discuss family either.

"How did you decide to become a tattoo artist?"

"Also a long story."

"Is business good?"

"We have our regulars. New people drop by every now and then. It's not bad, if that's what you're asking."

" _Okaaay_ , what about interests?"

All Karkat says is, "Art, music, movies, and food." When Dave asks for specifics, Karkat isn't sure what he's asking. "I like to sketch, I appreciate art, I listen to a variation of musical artists, I like movies whether they're blockbuster films or just downright shitty, and I like to eat and cook," he tells Dave angrily, as if it should be an obvious thing.

 _At least he can cook_ , Dave thinks. "What else can you do?"

Karkat scrunches his eyebrows. "You mean around the house? Dave, I am a grown man. I can take care of myself and the space I live on."

"Uh, okay, any girlfriends I should know about? Boyfriends, maybe?" Dave normally doesn't even bother with that kind of thing, but he has nothing else to work with.

"Is that really necessary?" Karkat scowls.

"You're right, it's not."

Dave frowns. He really dislikes Karkat's attitude, but more than that, he's disappointed. Karkat seems like an interesting guy, but he isn't very open. Dave understands that strangers don't always share juicy stories right away, but he expected, even  _wished_  for something... _more_. He's not sure what, but it's making him feel rather restless.

The other man crosses his arms (Dave only notices then and there that Karkat also has a faded crab tattoo on his right hand and an equally faded Cancer sign on the other). "What else do you want me to say?" Karkat growls, "I've got nothing else to give. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself, then? Just to be fair."

Dave sighs and gives up, seeing that Karkat had the right to ask that. And anyway, maybe Dave could get an actual conversation going.

"I work as a DJ," he starts, "from seven in the evening 'til the club closes at three in the morning. It's a ten minute drive from here. It's called The Cove. Have you heard of it?"

Karkat shrugs again. "I might have passed by, but I've never gone in. I'm not really all that into clubbing."

Dave bites his bottom lip, thinking,  _Well, that that's one less thing we have in common._ He has to pause and think of what else to say before continuing. "Well, I work Mondays through Fridays too, so I guess I'll only be seeing you in the mornings and on weekends. I normally get home at 4AM because I sometimes help with cleanup as well, then I go to bed at around 9 or 10AM when there's a lot of sun. I'm guessing you'll be up before then."

Karkat responds with nothing more than a soft ' _hm_ ,' and doesn't seem to mind. Rather, he looks completely indifferent to the possibility that they'll be having very few to no interactions a week, like all he's actually after is getting the vacant room. Dave wouldn't be at all surprised if it _were_  the case, but it's making it more difficult for Dave to decide whether or not he's up for sharing a roof with this asshole.

Said asshole seems to have realized this because he scratches his head irritatedly and says, "Look, we can try this out for a few weeks. I'll still pay rent and if either I or you don't like it, I'll scram."

Well, Dave can't say no to someone who's willing to pay rent. What other choice did he really have at the moment? None, as far as he's aware. "Fine, we can try it out. When do you think you can start moving in?"

"Next weekend, I guess. Trying to do this on a weekday might cause us more inconvenience than anything."

"Point." Dave agrees, slowly getting up to his feet and taking his mobile phone out. "Can I get your cel number? Just in case."

Karkat doesn't even question it. He takes out his phone and they exchange contact information. Karkat doesn't stay long after that. There's an inevitable awkwardness as they both say their good bye's, and then Karkat is quickly out the front door. Dave shuts the door, drops back down to the couch and lies there, groaning. Meeting Karkat felt like one of the most taxing things he's ever done and he'd rather not go through it again. In fact, he thinks that this week will fly on by, because it's not as if he's excited about Karkat officially moving in with him. There was nothing to look forward to, absolutely nothing thrilling about it.

Except Dave thinks about it for the rest of the afternoon - _where could that snake tattoo possibly lead to?_

\- - -

The week does go by quickly. Though Dave had Karkat on his mind for a while, he easily shifted his focus to more important things. He had to work the same evening he met the guy, and on the next day, he met up with his friends for the opening of Jane's bakery. He then worked his regular hours and went grocery shopping in the morning. After going to bed and getting back up, he made sure to let his landlady know that he'll be able to pay rent at the end of the month because someone new was moving in. He promises to introduce him. He then had an early dinner out before work with Rose and Kanaya who kept asking about Karkat, but Dave always changed the subject.

Wednesday and Thursday were uneventful; Dave spent those afternoons working on new mixes. On Friday, he helped John and Roxy pick out some furniture for their new home, which he also visited that day. Their apartment, though with only a single bedroom, was a bit larger than Dave's. It had a bigger kitchen, a dining room, and a fancier living room. John and Roxy were really happy with it, and it in turn made Dave really happy for them.

Dave went to work on Friday night. Several people had tattoos. He wondered if Karkat worked on any of them.

Saturday came and Dave woke up at around 8:30AM to the sound of a car horn. He lived on the second floor so, looking out the window, he was easily able to identify where the sound had come from. A bright red Audi had just been parked outside his building, right behind Dave's secondhand Honda Civic. The contrast between both cars made Dave cringe.

There were boxes in the backseat of the Audi, and this could mean two of many things: either a) Karkat was richer than he looked, or b) this was someone else's car.

Dave quickly learned that it was, indeed, someone else's car.

Karkat gets out of the passenger seat with a black backpack over his shoulder. His outfit is relatively similar to what he wore last week: shirt, jacket, denim jeans, but no beanie. Just a head full of messy, dark curls.

Karkat's talking to the driver, someone Dave can't see from where he is, so he takes this chance to get up, get dressed, fix his hair, put on his shades, and meet Karkat downstairs. When Dave walks out of the building, Karkat is still talking - or rather, arguing (not that it's all that shocking, really) with the driver, a smoking hot redhead wearing thick, red-framed glasses.

"Terezi, I'll be fine," Karkat says, obviously trying to keep himself from raising his voice, "I can carry the boxes on my own. I don't want you to be late for class."

"Then let me help, and I'll be off to school sooner than you know it," says the driver. _Terezi_ , Dave takes note,  _Unusual name. Like Karkat. Kanaya, too. Porrim, Sollux, Gamzee- they're all weird. The chick's still hot, though._

Karkat groans. Dave walks over to them greets them both with a _'Sup?_ and Karkat just groans even louder. For a 27-year-old, he sure acts like a child.

"Hey," Terezi greets him in return with a toothy grin, "You must be Dave."

Dave walks over to the car, Karkat stepping aside for him, and peeks in through the passenger's window. "And you must be Terezi," he says, reaching his hand out to her which she then gives a good, confident shake. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping. I promise I wasn't here for long, so I didn't hear much," Dave adds, now pulling back and straightening up. Karkat looks displeased.

"You didn't miss much anyway," Terezi laughs softly, "Karkat's just refusing my help."

Dave looks at Karkat with an expression of disbelief. It throws Karkat off who then looks confused and offended. " _What?_ " he snaps at Dave.

"Karkat! _How dare you._ Are you refusing this lovely lady's help because she's a  _lady_? You know, women are totally capable of carrying boxes, too, right?" Terezi snickers and nods in agreement with Dave.

Karkat just looks even more offended. "I never said- _Look_ , I just don't want Terezi to be late for class! Do I have to keep repeating myself!"

" _Karkat_ ," Terezi rolls her eyes, "my next class is two hours from now. We're just wasting our time arguing about this. I seriously don't mind carrying a box or two."

"Yeah, Karkat," Dave adds, "Where's your hospitality? Don't be rude. Let's invite Terezi upstairs for some coffee or something."

Karkat opens to mouth to say something but immediately shuts it and groans once again. " _Fine_. Fine! God, both of you are _insufferable_. Let's try this for a few weeks, I said! What was I _thinking_!" Grumbling some more words to himself, he pulls open the door to the backseat and grabs a box. Without another word to Dave or Terezi, he marches off ahead into the apartment building.

Dave and Terezi look at each other, and then they burst out laughing.

"Don't worry about him," Terezi sighs happily after their laughing fit, "He'll grow on you eventually."

Dave smiles at her but doesn't make a comment. He hopes she's right, but he's not sure how long that'll take. Terezi seems to know Karkat very well, like they've known each other for years. Dave wonders if he and Karkat will ever reach that kind of relationship, but he immediately dismisses the thought when he feels his cheeks turn warm.

He instead waves Terezi over who's already getting out of the car, keys shoved into her pockets. They both pick a box each and head on upstairs where Karkat is waiting impatiently, as well as in utter embarrassment after realizing he didn't even have his own key to the apartment yet.

With the three of them, it doesn't take long to bring all of Karkat's stuff into his new room. As Dave later steps into the apartment with the last of the boxes, however, he realizes that the apartment had suddenly grown quiet.

The door to Karkat's room is left only slightly open, but he can see Karkat and Terezi standing in there where he left them. Dave doesn't see Terezi's face because her back is facing the doorway, but he can see that Karkat looks... _sad_. And hurt, like he's done something terrible. On instinct, Dave stands in place and tries not to make a sound, hoping they haven't yet realized he was in the living room.

They're talking really softly about something so Dave can't really figure out what was going on. The only thing Dave manages to catch is Karkat saying sorry, but Dave's not so sure what he was sorry about. Then he sees Terezi hesitate, before slowly lifting a hand and lightly caressing Karkat's cheek with the tip of her fingers. She must have said something because Karkat _smiles_. It's a sad smile, but he's _smiling_.

He smiles and there is a shine in his eyes that Dave has never seen before, and Dave suddenly forgets how to _breathe_. He may not have known Karkat for long, but he somehow just _knows_  that Karkat isn't one to smile often. Maybe even at all. But here is this chick in his bedroom with him and all she had to do is say a few words- _heck_ , maybe she didn't even say anything at all, and it actually made Karkat Vantas _smile_.

Dave stays frozen in place. He knows it's not his business, but he wants to know who Terezi is and who she is to _Karkat_. They must have had history together, but it might be too early for Dave to even assume that. He still knows little to nothing about Karkat's personal life, much less Terezi's. But sometimes, you see two people and you just _know_ the have- or had- well, _something_.

There is a pang in Dave's chest, and he's got no clue why it hurts but it hurts pretty bad. He doesn't have any time to think about it either, though, because Terezi and Karkat are leaving the bedroom.

Dave scurries back out the front door, only to walk right back in and pretend he wasn't just _gawking_ at them for the last two to five minutes. "Here's the last of them," he says, passing it to Karkat and trying (and succeeding, because he's Dave fucking Strider) to sound casual. Karkat isn't looking at him. "You want anything to drink, Terezi?"

"Nah," Terezi says with a small smile and a bit of a huff. She throws a quick glance at Karkat before adding, "Something, uh, came up and I better get going. But thanks for the offer, Dave. Maybe next time?"

She sounds unsure, but Dave doesn't ask about it. Instead, he just watches Terezi as she heads for the front door.

Before leaving the apartment, she smiles, waves at both of them and says, "Take care, you guys." 

For a moment, she stands there looking at them, but she soon walks out and, just like that, she was gone.

Dave continues to watch her go, then he shuts the door for her after he could no longer see her. "So," he says, turning to look at Karkat but he was already back inside his bedroom, slamming the door closed. The engine of Terezi's car starts and Dave can hear her driving off to, well, wherever she was going. He sighs and stands there, awkwardly, not knowing what to do next.

\- - -

The apartment is dead silent again, as if Karkat wasn't even living there, and it stays this way for the next few days. Dave tolerates it for the time-being, knowing well enough that they both had very different weekly schedules. He just wished that Karkat would stop ignorning him every morning.

Every time Dave comes home at 4AM on weekdays, Karkat is still in his room. Dave doesn't know what time Karkat goes to bed or what time he gets up, but whenever Dave steps out of the bathroom at about 5AM, after a nice, hot shower, he is greeted by the _delicious_  smell of breakfast. He knew that Karkat cooked, but the latter never said anything about being really, _really_ good at it.

At first, Karkat would only cook for himself, but after witnessing Dave _attempt_  to make breakfast, Karkat demanded that Dave leave the cooking to him.

Breakfast is never the same two days in a row. Karkat would often cook omelettes and pancakes but each time differently than the last. Sometimes, he would also cook the _juiciest_ sausages and top them with the best curry sauce Dave has ever had the luxury of tasting. Other times, Karkat only prepared French toast but even _that_  was delicious. When Karkat was particularly hungry, he would sometimes cook pasta, which Dave was allowed to reheat if he wanted any more for lunch or dinner. Karkat worked best with his lasagna and his macaroni and cheese. Dave learned, however, that Karkat's specialty was Mexican food. Dave has had plenty of burritos, but none quite like the burritos Karkat cooked for breakfast. Let's not even get started on Karkat's ultimate specialty - his _huevos rancheros_. Even just the name of the dish sounded appetizing.

Unfortunately, as satisfying as breakfast has become every day, Karkat still wouldn't open up to Dave. Every time Dave complimented him for his cooking, Karkat would just shrug and eat. He might have muttered a _thank you_  once or twice, but Dave can't really remember if he imagined or not.

Despite all that, Dave knew Karkat couldn't remain mysterious forever. If Dave couldn't learn about Karkat by talking to him, then he could still do so by watching his every little move.

Every morning, Karkat gets out of bed sometime between 4 to 5AM - that much Dave already knew. He would come out of his bedroom, which he always kept locked, fully dressed in his typical attire and go straight to the kitchen to cook. One time, Dave decided to just watch him while he cooked; Karkat looked uncomfortable with it but he never actually said anything about it. As Dave watched, he realized that Karkat was _really_ good with his hands. It made sense, of course, because Karkat deals with inking people every day. Dave also finally took notice of the two studded piercings Karkat had on the ear opposite of his eyebrow piercing.

Karkat likes to drink his coffee black. He'd eat with Dave on the kitchen counter and sit across from him, but he never initiates a conversation. Every time Dave tries to, Karkat would just respond with simple gestures such as nodding his head or rolling his eyes. Sometimes, Karkat would roll his sleeves up just enough so he wouldn't get sauce on his jackets. Whenever he does this, Dave would be able to see a bit of his arm tattoos, most of them just tribal patterns.

After breakfast, Karkat would do the dishes alone and then take a shower. His toiletries were always tucked away in a particular order, making Dave feel much more conscious about being the messier one. Eventually, even Dave started tidying up his belongings, both inside the bathroom and, well, anywhere in the apartment, really. Dave learned that this made Karkat more relaxed and at ease, even though Karkat didn't particularly seem to be aware of it.

Karkat leaves for work every day at 10AM, and Dave doesn't see him again until the next morning. On weekends, Karkat doesn't seem to mind eating breakfast with Dave for as long as Dave doesn't bother him. Sometimes, Dave can't help it and Karkat would then retreat to his room to eat there, even though he clearly hates doing so. Dave has only caught a glimpse of Karkat's room once, its walls covered by several sketches which Dave assumes to be Karkat's work. Before Dave ever got a good look, though, Karkat had caught him peeking and slammed the door on his face. He's not sure what Karkat has against Dave seeing his art, but Dave hasn't bothered him about it after that.

Karkat never stays at home on weekend afternoons. He's either always at work or hanging out with his friends, whom he never invites to the apartment. Dave has no idea where he goes out to have fun, but Karkat always returns home when it's either almost or past midnight. And yet, he still manages to get up early enough for Sunday mass  - something Dave learned was just one of Karkat's many ways of dealing with anger management; he wasn't exactly a practicing Christian or anything - and so it kind of explained why Karkat has his eye bags. Karkat also likes to smoke outside the apartment building every now and then, usually smelling like tobacco when he walked back in. He never smokes around Dave.

No one calls Karkat through the telephone except for Kanaya or Terezi, who only do so to check if everything was alright. The calls slowly became less frequent with each passing week, but sometimes others would call Karkat through his mobile phone and sometimes Dave would be able to eavesdrop on his conversations with them. There were a few incidents wherein Karkat spoke to someone in straight, full-on Spanish, and Dave could actually hear the sexiness in Karkat's voice whenever he did so. How fast he's able to say so many words in a short amount of time, the emphasis of certain syllables and of certain words, and _god_ , the sound of his tongue rolling for every _r_  that he spoke-

Dave had learned, the hard way, that it was probably a bad idea to keep eavesdropping on Karkat whenever _el señorito habla en español_ because _goddamn_ , it was difficult to hide boners from your roommate.

Dave isn't even sure if he's actually _attracted_  to Karkat or only to certain things about him, but he definitely tries not to be. He still barely knows anything about him, even after they settled into this kind of weekly routine. And again, he's still not entirely sure when or even _if_  Karkat will warm up to him. What were the chances of ever getting it on with him, right? Dave thought they were pretty damn low, and it helped him stop himself from ever thinking of his roommate sexually or even romantically.

At least until one morning, about two weeks into living together, when Dave comes home to find Karkat passed out on the couch, drunk, and _shirtless_.

And god _fucking_  damn it, that is a shit ton of tattoos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Again, please go easy on me. Xd
> 
> My version of Karkat's human appearance was inspired by tumblr user ryu-gemini's Hispanic!Karkat. UvU
> 
> I also decided not to make Terezi blind. I'm not sure why that is, but I guess it's because I needed her to be able to drive? xD;
> 
> Disclaimer: I also don't know jack shit about cooking, so I looked to Byron Talbott on YouTube. :b
> 
> I do know some Spanish, however... but I need to brush up on it as well. UvU;
> 
> That's about it! I'll try updating this as soon as I can!!
> 
> PS. I almost forgot! The blind people and douchebags joke was taken from Supernatural, Season 9, Episode 5. ;v;


	2. A Splash Of Orange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'd like to thank everyone who left comments and kudos on the previous chapter. I really appreciate it!
> 
> I'd also like to apologize for making you all wait roughly three and a half weeks for this update. I've been out of town since I posted the last chapter, but I _have_ been working on this since then as well. ;v;
> 
> Additional note: I added some more tags (relationships and characters), when I initially wanted to wait, but I thought hey, they're going to appear and/or be mentioned in the future anyway, so there. xD
> 
> Anyway, I wouldn't want to keep you waiting any longer. I hope you enjoy this one! To make up for the wait, I made it almost twice as long as the last. >;]

**(02) A Splash Of Orange**

Dave hasn't got a clue on what he should be doing; he has never been in this kind of situation, not exactly. Every time any one of his friends got so drunk, someone else had been the one to take care of them. Not Dave.

So no one can blame him if all he does is ogle.

Karkat, passed out on the couch, is on his back with an arm over his eyes and another over his stomach. It amuses Dave that Karkat has more stomach than expected, now without all of the layers of clothing to hide his skin. His stomach isn’t too large or anything, but Dave had expected Karkat to be skin and bones. It just doesn’t help Dave that Karkat’s jeans are pulled down low enough for Dave to see his hips, but it's only part of what’s keeping Dave from moving.

He's still taking in the fact that not an inch of Karkat's upper body _isn't_ covered in ink.

The most eye-catching tattoo is the Chinese dragon - the same tattoo Dave had thought to be a snake tattoo. Its head is on Karkat's right collarbone and its body is wrapped around Karkat's entire torso in a spiral manner, meaning it must cover a lot of his backside as well. Dave starts tracing the whole thing with his eyes until he reaches the tail which lies on Karkat's left hip. Opposite of it, on Karkat's right hip, is a grunge spades tattoo.

There is a block of text on the left of Karkat's chest, but because his left side was much closer to the back of the couch than it was to Dave, Dave could hardly see what the tattoo says. He wants to move closer to read the words, but he just can't bring himself to. At most, he could guess that it was some sort of Bible verse.

The rest of Karkat's torso is covered in clouds of smoke that gives the dragon a more mystical look.

Similarly to the Bible verse tattoo, Dave can only barely see the tattoos on Karkat's left arm, the same arm that's sprawled over his eyes. He can, however, see that on the underside of Karkat's forearm are what look like the planets of the Solar System placed in a straight, vertical line. The sun is positioned at the end of the line while a crescent moon is on the other - not scientifically accurate but the aesthetic is admittedly pleasing.

On Karkat's right shoulder is a tattoo of a goblet with mist spilling over from the top. Spread across it is a banner with the words, " _Aqua de Vida_ ," and beneath the goblet are several skeletal arms and hands trying to reach for it. The arms are protruding from a line of dirt that covers the entire diameter of Karkat's arm, just below his elbow, suggesting that there are more skeletal arms than Dave can actually see from where he's standing. The remainder of Karkat's arm is, again, covered in tribal patterns. The crab tattoo is also still on the back of Karkat's right hand where Dave remembers it being - as if it could actually leave anytime it wanted to. The detail is just that superb.

Dave  _really_  wants to see the rest of Karkat's tattoos, but he knows he should really be doing something to help the guy. Looking around, Dave realizes that he isn't the first one to see Karkat like this. Someone else had been in here and had also tried to tuck Karkat in with a blanket, but it fell to the floor sometime in the middle of the night. They had also placed a glass of water and some aspirin on the coffee table for Karkat to take when he wakes up.

Next to those, there is a piece of kitchen roll with a note that says:

 _Left your stuff in your room. Keys, wallet, phone._  
_Give me a call when you wake up._ _  
_Don't worry about me. You'll know if I made it home safely. >;]__

 _Oh! I told Gamz and Sollux you'll stay in today._ _  
_Take more care of yourself, idiot!!__

_\- TZ_

_Terezi_ , Dave figures right away. Aside from Kanaya, she was the only other person among Karkat's friends who knew where his room was.

Dave wants to feel relieved that some help with Karkat had been provided, but for some reason he just frowns. Terezi seems really reliable, so Dave can't see why he'd have anything against her. Maybe Dave is just... being weird. It's the only explanation he could give himself and, convinced by his own reasoning, he decides that it was best to let Karkat stay asleep while Dave himself takes a shower.

Later, Dave checks the trash for any beer cans or bottles. Other than the note, seeing nothing in the trash just gives Dave confirmation that Karkat had been drinking outside. Terezi must have brought him home by car.

Still feeling disappointed, and without a single clue why, Dave then sits by the counter with his laptop and waits for Karkat to wake up. Dave checks his facebook, only to see that he has a new friend request from Terezi.

He tells himself to accept it later.

\- - -

Karkat doesn't fully wake up until about half an hour before noon. He had stirred and mumbled in his sleep every now and then, and Dave would check on him every time he did. There had been a few times when Dave thought he'd woken up; he couldn't really tell, but if Karkat had indeed woken up before 11:30, he just went right back to sleep. It’s when Dave hears Karkat curse loudly about how much his head was aching that Dave knew Karkat would finally get up.

"Morning," Dave calls out from behind the counter. Karkat grunts. "There's aspirin on the table."

Karkat doesn't sit up to take the aspirin until after a few moments, probably taking the time to register what was going on. When Karkat does sit up, Dave curses the sofa for blocking his view of the man's back, but luckily, it doesn't block his view for long.

Dave is quiet as he watches Karkat get up on his feet. The tattoo on his back is also a very large one - it's a monk sitting on a floating piece of land, and he looks like he's in the middle of some intense meditation because his eyes are glowing a bright white. There are gushes of wind surrounding him, together with flying particles of earth and the rest of the dragon Dave wasn't able to see earlier. The whole thing kind of just reminds Dave of  _The Last Airbender_.

He's quick to look away when Karkat turns and walks over to him.

On the counter, Dave had prepared Karkat a glass bowl, some milk, and a box of corn flakes. Karkat looks at Dave questioningly and Dave just shrugs. "You know I can't cook, but I  _had_  to give you something. Don't worry about me, though," Dave adds with a small grin, "I already ate."

"What time is it?" is all Karkat asks as he helps himself to some cereal and milk.

Dave pouts and checks his phone. "11:36."

"I can still make it to work," he hears Karkat mutter, before he sits across from Dave and starts eating.

" _Dude_ ," Dave frowns, "C'mon, you can't go to work like that."

Karkat doesn't respond, because he knows Dave is right. Despite the aspirin, he still feels like he got run over by a truck. He's leaning forward with his elbows on the counter, back hunched, and head bowed down, and he seems to have trouble eating without getting a migraine. It's easy to tell when he does get one because he lowers his head just a little further down and then chews on the cereal so hard Dave could hear the flakes being crushed.

Dave sighs.

"This, too. You can't keep avoiding me or whatever," Dave finds himself struggling to say it - he hadn't really thought this part through but he's been wanting to say this for a while now, "It's... It has to stop. We  _live_ together. We might as well start acting like it."

Karkat still doesn't say anything but he gives Dave a small nod. It's not the response Dave was looking for, but it'll have to do.

Dave inhales deeply before exhaling and stretching his arms. "Well," he starts, "you should take it easy today. Watch TV or something. I need to get some shut-eye, but let me know if you need anything. Maybe we can grab some dinner together before  _I_  go to work.  _You_  need to stay in, got it?"

Another small nod. Dave thinks it's a start.

He gets off his stool to wash his own bowl and spoon. While he does, he glances at Karkat who's still silently eating his cereal. Dave can now finally see the left arm, and it has tattoos that are just as eye-catching as the others.

On Karkat's shoulder are numerous angels who are swooping down from the heavens with swords and shields and are about to jump into battle with just as many demons. The demons are unarmed and are crawling up from below, right above the tribal patterns on Karkat's forearm. After looking closely, Dave could see that no two angels or demons are exactly the same. He can only imagine how long it must have taken to design the thing, let alone apply it to Karkat's skin.

Right between the two opposing groups is a very vivid depiction of the human heart. Dave immediately thinks of the phrase "wear your heart on your sleeve," and decides to ask Karkat about it sometime in the future.

Dave, long finished with the dishes, also decides that he could stay up a little longer, that he can  _probably_  go a day without sleeping, if it meant he could finally get to know his roommate.

He walks back to his seat and asks Karkat about tattoos. It's blunt, but it's the first thing that had popped in Dave's mind. Karkat, as expected, is surprised, but he doesn't seem to have any objections about having this conversation, so he asks Dave what he wants to know in particular.

Dave shrugs, puts on his best grin, and says, "Anything you want to tell me."

He must have done something right because, although Karkat is quiet at first, he starts to tell him about several things. He begins with the process of applying tattoos then moves on to tips on getting your first one, where it hurts the most and the least, how to care for your skin after getting tattoos, and so on. The subject itself, at least in general, isn't something Dave had  _wanted_  to talk about. He's honestly more interested in Karkat talking (his voice is almost the only thing Dave is really hearing, accent and all, not the actual words), but it was still  _something_. And anyway, it gave Dave something to work with. In no time, he easily shifts the conversation to different things - trivial things for now, so that Karkat wouldn't bring his defences back up.

Much to Dave's surprise, their conversations actually last a good couple of hours - and it's the most fun Dave has had in the last two weeks.

Later that day, after Karkat takes his long awaited shower, both he and Dave get dressed for an early dinner out at The Mutiny. They run into their landlady along the way, and Dave finally introduces Karkat to her. She's a short and plump woman who has a warm smile and is easy to get along with. She goes by the name Ms. Paint, but Dave just calls her Ms. P to sound cool. Karkat thinks it's a weird nickname and Dave tells him to shut it.

At The Mutiny, Dave introduces Karkat to Roxy and to John who also happens to be there. They all have dinner together, while Roxy has the chance to, and she and John keep going on and on about how they've been really excited to meet Karkat. They tell him that Dave wouldn't stop talking about him and Dave just tells Karkat they're lying. Karkat doesn't seem to believe him but he doesn't ask about it. Dave's not sure if he caught Karkat smirking.

They stay at The Mutiny for a good hour or so before Dave walks Karkat back home. John and Roxy thought Karkat was fun to be with and they both had a pretty good time. Karkat seems to have enjoyed himself as well, even though he doesn't look like he'd admit it. In any case, Dave is pretty happy himself, though he knows it to be an understatement.

When they get to the apartment building, Dave tells Karkat they have part ways there because Dave has to start driving to work. Before he leaves, Karkat, hesitant at first, stops Dave from getting in his car.

"Wait," he says, standing on the stone steps without knowing what to do with his hands.

Dave, just about to get in, looks at him and raises an eyebrow. Karkat isn't looking at him and he's scratching the back of his head like he's trying to remember what he wants to say.

"Thanks," he mumbles, "For looking after me today. I really appreciate it."

The words surprise Dave. First his chest feels tight, and then he’s suddenly very aware of his breathing.

There is a pause. Karkat steals a quick glance at Dave before averting his eyes once more. "See you in the morning," is all he says before he's already walking into the building. Dave doesn’t get a chance to say anything.

But that's perfectly fine because Karkat doesn't see Dave grinning like a 6-year-old getting his favorite toy for Christmas.

"See you in the morning," Dave says, even though there isn't any reason to.

It's a fleeting moment, but it's enough to get Dave by and through the night.

When Dave gets to work, his boss asks him why he's so fucking ecstatic, and Dave just tells her everything was great,  _so_  great. Dave hasn't yet gotten any sleep for the day, but he's just  _so_  giddy that it doesn't even matter.

\- - -

The next few weeks are even better because eventually Karkat starts initiating conversations himself. He also starts staying home during the weekends, except when he has to go to mass or see a client. Their weekend mornings are relatively the same as any other morning - with Karkat cooking the best breakfasts and Dave watching him cook, discreetly - but Dave enjoys them more than any other morning because Karkat doesn't always have to leave for work. Dave feels silly for thinking that way, because it sounds rather domestic, but he usually just shrugs the feeling off.

On weekend afternoons, if neither of them was busy, they would sometimes go out for lunch and continue to talk about trivial things. Sometimes Dave's friends would join them. Other times, they'd be in their own bedrooms doing their own thing, which is fine with Dave because it gave him time to work on his music. Karkat's room, Dave notices, is no longer always locked, but Dave feels like he needs to be invited in before he even thinks about entering Karkat's private space. He'd rather not intrude.

On Saturday evenings, and sometimes even on Sunday evenings, Karkat and Dave would watch at least one movie together. They had, at first, settled with whatever was showing on HBO, but this later evolved into them renting movies they liked. And, on the rare occasion either of them was willing to pay for popcorn and drinks, they would sometimes go out to the movies instead. Karkat hadn't been lying when he said he enjoyed even the shittiest of movies, but Dave doesn't really mind - he's too focused on keeping himself from calling their nights out as dates.

Dave often has to remind himself that he still doesn't know Karkat well enough to actually  _like_ him. Maybe he just has a very teeny, tiny crush.  _Maybe_.

"No, but lions are  _faster_ ," Karkat says, as he and Dave walk home one late afternoon after having hung out at The Mutiny with Roxy and the others, "I keep saying this. A grizzly bear's got nothing on lions."

"Except for strength," Dave retaliates, "and anyway, lions don't even do the hunting themselves. The ladies do it for them, so eventually any prowess a lion has is bound to fade, right?"

"Don't the lions have to protect their pride as well?" Karkat's brows furrow.

"Yeah, because they're  _lame_ ," Dave laughs.

"I meant their– You _know_ lions are badass, Dave, stop lying. They can take on bears any day, on any terrain. I don't even know why you asked."

Karkat shifts his focus to the path in front of them as if he's won the debate, but Dave adds, "Still won't get off their lazy, furry butts to get themselves food."

Karkat just rolls his eyes. "Speaking of food, you mind if we do some grocery shopping before we head home? We're running low on some stuff, and I have a couple new recipes I want to try out."

Dave looks at him for a moment before looking back away. "Sure," he says, softly. But despite having agreed to it, Dave suddenly feels anxious. He knows he shouldn't be, because it's not like he hasn't gone to the grocery with John before, but he is. Anxious.

 _Get it together, Strider_ , he mentally tells himself,  _you're just going to buy eggs and toilet paper and stuff. How big of a deal is that, right? It's not like we're a married couple or anything._

But it  _does_  feel like they're a married couple.

It doesn't feel like grocery shopping with John because grocery shopping with John equates to grocery shopping with a brother - you both know what the other wants (which normally and often includes ready-to-eat meals), grab the items, and go. You sometimes bicker about what chips to get and what sauce goes best with it, and other times, you both find something new and buy it just to try it out. Then you find that you hate it and vow never to buy the shit again.

In short, it's quick and fun.

This is different. This time, Dave is strolling through the aisles together with Karkat, quietly. Karkat is taking his sweet time comparing prices while Dave is gawking with nothing to keep him busy. Dave has no idea what Karkat uses to cook their meals, and as much as he'd like to pick out items he himself wants to buy, he feels more conscious about budget with Karkat than he ever did with John. Dave wonders if John is going through the same thing, now living with Roxy and everything. He could probably ask him about it later.

To Dave’s relief, this ordeal looks new to Karkat as well. He turns to Dave, holding two different brands of cooking oil, and is about to say something but he doesn't. He's probably had more conversations about groceries with whomever it was he was living with before than he's had conversations with Dave about  _anything_  because he looks conflicted, as though he's debating if he should even ask Dave about cooking oil brands. Dave finds himself wishing he knew jack about cooking oil.

Instead of asking about which item had more value than the other, Karkat instead asks Dave to go fetch some dip, whatever Dave liked to eat with jalapeño poppers. "I'll cook some for us for our movie next Saturday," Karkat says.

Dave thinks it's fucking endearing.  _He'll cook some for_  us _, for_ our  _movie_ _._

Dave is more than happy to go fetch some dip if it meant he actually gets to contribute to their food supply, and if it meant he gets to temporarily escape the awkwardness that is grocery shopping with Karkat Vantas. So with a nod of his head, he runs along like a child told by their mother that they can pick out a whole cake or ice cream. When he finds himself at the aisle that had dips and sauces, he also finds himself trying to guess what kind of dip Karkat liked.  _Marinara sauce maybe._

It takes Dave longer than it should to pick something out. What goes better with jalapeño poppers than marinara sauce? But what if Karkat didn’t like what Dave picked? What if Karkat didn’t even like marinara sauce and Dave was being an ass for assuming? Karkat said he could pick whatever he wanted, but-

“Screw it.”

Not wanting to keep Karkat waiting, Dave quickly grabs a bottle of marinara sauce then heads back to the aisle with cooking oil.

Karkat is nowhere to be seen.

Dave gawks again for a short moment, lost as to where Karkat may have gone. Then he actually searches for him. He doesn’t see Karkat _anywhere_ , not in the aisles of food and not even in the aisles of cleaning items. Dave is puzzled until he finds Karkat in the last place he'd expect him to be at: the aisle for pet care.

And even then, he just becomes even more puzzled.

When he approaches Karkat, he sees that the latter is looking at cat food.

"Cat food?"

"Hm?" Karkat looks at him like he hadn't even noticed Dave walking toward him. "Oh, yeah. We ran out."

Dave eyes him questioningly. "Unless you're hiding a cat in your bedroom, I'm fairly certain we don't have a cat."

Karkat nearly grins.  _Nearly._

 _So close_ , Dave thinks.

"Sorry, I meant at the shop," Karkat clarifies, looking back at the cat food, picking out several cans, and placing them in their basket, "There's a stray that used to pass by all the time. One day, Gamzee decided to feed it and it instantly took a liking to us. Now, it lives right by the parlor, and we all take turns buying it food."

It takes Dave a few moments to imagine Karkat simply being around animals that he nearly misses the question when Karkat asks, "Want to tag along tomorrow to see it?"

In an instant, Dave's expression brightens. He could have never expected such an invitation, not this soon. "Sure. I mean, I don't mind a good afternoon walk," he says, as smoothly as he possibly could.

Karkat just nods and they split the payment for their food. Dave offers to pay for half of the cat food as well, but Karkat assures him that it's fine. Dave pays for half of it anyway. He says it's nice of Karkat to look after a stray cat.

Karkat almost smiles. Dave curses.  _So fucking close._

As they're walking home, Dave thinks he might as well take this chance to ask Karkat about his tattoo parlor.

"So," he starts, thinking of how to go about it, "How long have you had your own shop?"

This time, Karkat raises a brow. He looks back at the path in front of them before answering, "A little over a year or two now. I worked elsewhere first to get some experience, of course. It was fun, too, kind of like being an apprentice."

"Yeah? Did you jump right to it after college or something?"

“… No, not really. It didn’t even cross my mind. I tried going corporate first, designing logos and ads and other things, but it wasn’t for me. When Gamzee started tattooing, he told me all about it and it sounded… well,  _better_  to me, you know? It beats being cooped up in an office where old men call themselves your boss and yell at you just because they had a bad day.”

He sighs before he continues. “I… prefer designing tattoos. Stuff like logos and advertisements seem pretentious to me. ‘ _You need this shit, or at least we say you do, and we’re giving it to you!_ ’ and all that. Tattoos are different. Some people do it to look cool, sure, like how you wear your shades all the time–”

“ _Hey!_ ” Dave snaps, looking offended. He isn’t really.

“–but others do it as an expression of themselves. You’re adding something to your skin, right? Something  _permanent_. If you’re not going to use it to show others who you are, you’re at least going to use it to remind yourself of what you believe in. It’s not going to go away, at least not easily, and-  _ugh_ – ” There is a grunt that escapes Karkat’s lips as he cocks his head to the side. “You probably think it sounds stupid. I don’t really know why I’m telling you this, but that’s how I see it.”

“No, it’s…”

Dave stops himself. He wants to tell him it’s an interesting way of looking at things, that he’s happy to hear it, and that he’s also more than happy to hear more of it. Dave wants to know more, not so much about tattoos as he does about  _Karkat_. But tattoos are starting to sound amazing, too.

Instead, he smiles and says, “It’s cool.”

Karkat steals a glance at Dave, looking relieved, but he doesn’t say anything more. They arrive at their street as Dave thinks of what to ask next. It’s only when he fishes for his keys from his pockets as they stand outside their apartment building does he ask, “So, art student?”

His roommate seems to have spaced out for a while, but he then looks at Dave and blinks, snapping out of his train of thought, whatever it is he was thinking of. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I majored in art. Took a few management courses just to add something to my résumé. I can’t say they didn’t turn out to be useful, though.”

They head upstairs. Dave unlocks their door with a free hand. “Is it as tough as they say? Majoring in art.”

“You have  _no_  idea. Some of the professors can be brutal with their comments, and materials are more costly than they look. It’s worse when you’re asked to redo something over and over again. We lack sleep just as much as any other college student, and I will personally punch _anyone_ in the face if they say otherwise.” Karkat groans. Dave grins.

They enter their home and head straight for the kitchen to unpack their groceries and place the items in their respective cupboards. During this time, they talk about nothing other than which item should go where, because Karkat was also particular about where he stores the food. Dave had grown accustomed to this and, as previously mentioned, had himself become tidier because of it.

Afterwards, they drop down to the couch to take a breather. It’s a Sunday evening and neither of them have any movie to watch.

It’s silent for some time, but when Dave thinks he’s on a roll, he permits himself to go ahead and ask, “Why art? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He assumes that Karkat  _does_  mind, but the latter looks at him like he’s surprised Dave even wants to know. Dave  _really_  wants to know, so he waits patiently for an answer, allowing Karkat to refuse if he wanted to.

He doesn’t.

“I didn’t know what else to take,” Karkat admits, looking at his feet which he had placed on top of the coffee table, “I thought I’d go ahead with it, since it was one of the only things I was good at  _and_  was interested in pursuing. I didn’t always want it, though. I thought of taking psychology or some shit, but I couldn’t bear the idea of listening to people over and over again.”

Dave chuckles. “You don’t look the type to be able to either.”

Karkat hides a smirk. “Yeah, I get that pretty often, thanks.”

Dave’s smile is so wide it almost starts to hurt. “At first glance, I didn’t peg you to be an artist either. How’d that happen?”

Karkat grows silent, clearly considering what to say. It worries Dave that maybe he’s a little too treaded too far, although he never expected such a question to be sensitive.

Concerned, he’s about to take it back when Karkat answers, “I took art lessons when I was a kid. My… dad thought it was cheaper than having me do sports or music. All he had to do was get me crayons and paper. I didn’t think it was so bad, either. It seemed to impress him and it kept me busy. He… worked hard, always came home late. I’d draw him a thing or two so that whenever he came home, he didn’t look so tired. He put my third best works on the fridge, second best in his office, and my absolute best, he kept with him all the time. It got to the point where he joked about needing more pockets.”

The smile on Dave’s face shrinks. He’s not exactly sure what to say to that. It doesn’t feel like something Karkat would just tell  _anyone_ , and Dave’s trying to figure out if he even deserves to hear this.

With only cliché movies and dramas to guide him, he responds with, “I’m sure your dad’s proud, of what you do.”

Karkat still isn’t looking at him when he frowns. Dave’s smile instantly fades with.

“I wouldn’t know. He died when I was 13.”

There is a heaviness that gradually envelopes the room. This isn’t what Dave was expecting to hear tonight at all. He hadn’t been expecting Karkat to open up about  _anything_  really, and yet here he was, dropping a bomb. Dave had gotten _no_ warning whatsoever, and now he’s left with parted lips and absolutely no words to say.

It doesn’t take long for Karkat to look at him and realize what had happened. Karkat doesn’t  _look_  hurt, but Dave does, and this makes Karkat frown even more. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, _trying_ to sound reassuring, “It was a long time ago.”

It doesn’t help Dave much. He shifts in place uncomfortably, now looking at the carpet beneath his feet. “How’d he- I mean… I’m sorry,” he says.

Karkat sighs.

“It’s fine. He… died in a car accident, a common way to go but no less painful. I got the news from my aunt who then took me in. She raised me together with Kanaya and Porrim. It’s why I know how to cook so well. They were good to me, all of them, and so was my dad. I grew to live with it.”

 _Why are you telling me this? Why are you trusting me with this information? How is this even the_ least _bit OK?_ is what Dave wants to ask. Instead, he asks, “What about your mother?”

“She left when I was five or something,” is what Karkat answers and Dave immediately regrets ever asking. Karkat sees this in his expression, so again, he says, “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t be saying it if I didn’t want to. And anyway, I’m not entirely bitter about it. My dad, as good as he was, was also a difficult man to live with. I understand why she left.”

Karkat finishes. Dave still doesn’t say anything, so Karkat sighs for the nth time and thinks for a moment.

He decides to take it as his turn to ask questions.

“How about you? Why did you decide to pursue music?”

Dave looks at him, startled. He isn’t sure what to feel about the change in topic. Part of him feels like it’s a horrible way to end a serious conversation, like Karkat couldn’t just dump all of that information on Dave and act as if it was perfectly alright. But another part of Dave feels as though maybe it was better to talk about something else. He’s not sure he could take any more anyway.

He looks back down at the carpet.

“I, uh, thought it would be cool. Actually, my brother, Dirk, he considered becoming a DJ first when we were younger. I looked up to him, still do, so I thought I’d give it a shot, too. It’s not to say I don’t enjoy it, though. I do, and I’d rather not be doing anything else. Dirk was really good at it. Still is. Much better than me, in fact. He gets to travel because of it.”

“Do  _you_  want to travel?”

Dave looks at Karkat who’s looking back at him intently but with genuine curiosity. It catches Dave off-guard and almost causes him to blush.

“I… haven’t really thought about it,” he admits.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Dave says, averting his gaze and scratching the back of his neck. He’s never been asked this before, not by Dirk or by any of their friends. And then it dawns to him that, compared to Karkat, he doesn’t seem all that interesting, that he isn’t really as  _cool_  as he acts. And this makes him afraid that Karkat will lose interest, in the conversation  _and_  in Dave.

But he doesn’t.

Leaning against the back of the sofa, he closes his eyes and lets out a soft huff. Then he says, “I’d like to hear your work sometime.”

Dave looks at him, surprised yet again. “You would?”

“Yeah, why not? You telling me your work isn’t good?” Karkat eyes him, questioning.

“No, I never–”

“Good,” Karkat finishes and closes his eyes once more.

Dave’s still not sure what to say, but it makes him smile a bit. The heaviness that he had felt earlier seems to be drifting, so he finds himself easing to relaxation next to Karkat, eyes closed and hands together over his stomach. Only two words come out of his mouth:

“Thanks, Karkat.”

Karkat looks at him, utterly confused. “Hm? I didn’t really do anything.”

Dave laughs.

“Thanks anyway.”

\- - -

The next day greets them with warm sunshine. Karkat and Dave get up a little later than usual, have breakfast like they normally do (today’s menu included ham-and-mushroom omelettes and baked potato wedges), wash the dishes together, and finally, get dressed.

Dave takes forever in his room, trying out different things and seeing which pieces of clothing goes best with what. He wants to wear his favorite raglan shirt, but he thinks it might be a little too plain - not punk enough to leave a good first impression on Karkat’s co-workers and customers. So he places this aside for another day and instead dons a black long-sleeved shirt, under a plain white T-shirt, and tops it off with an open plaid shirt that’s black and red. He checks himself in the mirror and thinks he should roll up his sleeves, but then he realizes that he has no tattoos to show off, so he leaves them as is.

After putting on a pair of black jeans and his favorite red Chucks, he gels his hair in a way that looks puffier than normal, just a little bit so it wouldn’t look like he was obviously  _trying_  to look good. It takes a while to do this, because Dave normally leaves his hair be, but he does want to look his best today. And he knows it’s not to impress Karkat’s friends or his clients, not really.

Dave’s not going to lie to himself. He just wants Karkat to think he looks nice, for the most part.

He stands in front of the mirror for a moment longer. A part of him still can’t get his mind off what Karkat had told him the night before. He had lacked some sleep over it, too, but he eventually tells himself that it’ll be fine.

When Dave leaves his room, Karkat is already waiting in the living room with his usual get-up and a plastic bag containing all the cat food they had bought together. He seems to notice the difference in Dave’s choice of clothing, but he says nothing about it. Instead, he leads Dave out the building and down the street to his shop. Dave is smiling goofily the entire way there.

Karkat wasn’t joking when he said his parlor is just two blocks away. It’s so close to the apartment that Dave doesn’t even have the chance to come up with anything to talk about, too busy wondering if he overdid it with his attire. He then wonders why he’s never seen the shop before, but he realizes he’s never really needed to drive down this route.

The streets are quiet and there is no one else in sight, no cars to disrupt the sound of the birds singing and of the trees swaying against the wind. Leaves fall to the ground, and Dave playfully kicks them out of the way. In the far distance, Dave can see a man jogging with his dog. A couple of teenagers bike by, ringing their bicycle bells, and are probably on their way to school. Everything else is silent, as though everyone was still asleep. All of the shops are still closed, save for the tiny café next to Karkat’s parlor. And from it, the lovely aroma of coffee tempts Dave in as they near their destination.

Dave realizes that they have several hours before Karkat’s studio actually opens. On top of the doorway is a black wooden sign with the shop’s name, Knyght Inks, in bold golden letters. The words were carved in a way that resembles medieval lettering. Beneath the words is a golden jousting lance, also carved unto the wood.

Dave, one eyebrow raised, looks at Karkat who just looks back at him with a shrug of his shoulders. “Knyght’s just some old fancy spelling of what you think it means. I thought it would catch people’s attention.” He pauses before smirking. “Seems like it works.”

It’s the first time Dave has been deliberately shown anything close to a smile, so of course he couldn’t help but stare and put on a grin.

“Sure does. Not as shocking as that smug look on your face, though. For a while there, I thought you were  _incapable_  of smiling, _Ser_ Vantas.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Karkat says, and Dave thinks he’ll snarl instead, but the smirk stays.

After unlocking the door, Karkat walks to the right of the parlor where there stands a desk. He places most of the cat food in a large drawer beneath it except for three cans, which he then opens with a can opener that he keeps in the same storage space.

The studio is small, but it’s enough to fit two chairs for clients and two more for the tattooists to sit on. At the back of the shop are cupboards and shelves for all of their equipment which, as expected of Karkat, are kept in a neat and proper order. Dave wants to inspect each one, but he knows well enough he shouldn’t be touching anything without permission, especially in here. So instead, he looks at the walls, all of which are painted blue and covered in different tattoo designs in wooden frames. Much to Dave’s dismay, he couldn’t tell which belonged to Karkat and which didn’t. Even so, they were all intriguing in their own way. To the left of the door is a black couch that had been pushed back against the wall and next to it is a full-body mirror, likely for clients to see finished products.

Dave is still studying the rest of the room, having expected it to have a more medieval theme, when Karkat’s inviting him back outside. They’ll be feeding the cat there. Dave obliges and follows him out.

He takes his seat next to Karkat on the sidewalk while the latter starts calling out, “Here kitty, kitty! Here kitty, kitty!”

Never in the last month of living with Karkat did Dave imagine he’d ever hear this. He snorts, and he would tease him _endlessly_ for it, but the cat soon arrives as if on cue.

It’s a small tabby, gray in color and clearly no longer a kitten, but it looks just as delicate. It’s very thin, almost malnourished, but it’s no question that it’s being nursed back to health. There are bandages around its head, covering one eye, and more bandages around its midsection.

Dave looks at Karkat with concern.

“He got into a fight with a dog last week. Luckily, the dog’s owner was close by, so the dog was stopped before it could do anything fatal, but we still think the damage is going to leave scars.”

“Poor thing,” Dave says, watching the cat as it approached Karkat with a purr, “Does it have a name?”

“Not yet. We couldn’t really decide on one, so we just call it Kitty.”

 _Kitty_  is rubbing against Karkat’s leg and Dave thinks it’s  _beyond_  adorable, more so when Karkat begins to pet it.

“Where does it stay? You can’t tell me you let an injured cat stay out here.”

Karkat scoffs. “God,  _no_. Of course not. He sleeps in the café over there.” He points to the one next to his shop. It’s called Little Cubes And Tea. “One of the baristas who works there part-time owns like ten cats or something. When she found out a cat frequented our shop, she asked the manager if they could let it stay in their backroom whenever it needed to. But Kitty only really goes there to sleep. He still likes going out, coming to visit us, and all that.”

“Does she, the barista, buy cat food for Kitty too?”

“Not as often as we do. She’s got other cats to worry about, but she _does_ help by giving tips on actually looking after one. None of us had any idea ‘til she came along.”

“Is that why none of you ever adopted it? Brought it home?”

Karkat thinks about it for a moment, presenting the cat food to Kitty who then starts to eat quite happily. “I don’t know. It never occurred to me. The others never talked about it either. I thought it was better here because I’m here almost all day anyway.”

“Good point,” Dave agrees, pondering, “Well… If you want to give it a proper home, I think Ms. P wouldn’t mind.”

“Yeah?” Karkat looks at Dave, a soft shine in his eyes. “You think Ms. P would adopt him?”

Dave blinks. “I meant… I thought maybe  _we_  could adopt him.”

The words had left Dave’s mouth before he even realizes it. When he does, he feels a good amount of heat rush to his cheeks, and he sees that Karkat is pretty surprised himself. In an instant, Dave looks away and says, “You know, only if you want to. We don’t really have to–”

“I’ll think about it.”

When Dave turns to look back at Karkat, he’s smiling, softly.

He’s petting the cat on its head, with a great amount of care and caution so as not to hurt the little guy. And there is a shine in his eyes, different from that of a few moments ago and more similar to the way he looked at Terezi. A look of adoration, Dave thinks, though he could hardly register that this moment was real, that it’s  _actually_  happening.

And before he could accept its reality, there is a softness that jumps on his lap out of nowhere, causing him to let out a tiny _oof!_

He looks down to see that the cat is suddenly snuggling against him. Dave stares at it, dumbstruck, and watches it as it purrs and makes itself comfortable. Karkat is smirking because Dave’s looking at him with a face that’s screaming  _what the fuck do I do_ _?_

For the next several minutes, maybe for the next hour or two or three, Dave and Karkat feed the cat, talk about several, trivial things, watch as more people start passing by, and sometimes just sit in the silence, enjoying the breeze and the warmth of the sun. It doesn’t take long for Dave to relax, and it takes even less time for him to warm up to Kitty. Eventually, he even starts to tease Karkat and call him  _Karkitty_. Karkat just rolls his eyes, complaining about how it’s the oldest joke in the book.

Eventually too, however, the cat leaves and runs off to go about its own adventures. Karkat also gets up because he has to make sure that the shop, all equipment included, is clean and ready for the day. He doesn’t seem to mind when Kitty takes an empty can of cat food with him, and Dave decides to assume this was a normal thing.

He follows Karkat into the shop, not knowing what to do. Karkat tells him it’s fine and that he can just sit on the couch, so he does.

At about 11 o’clock, the bell at the top corner of the doorway rings to signal that someone had just come in. Dave looks to see a short man, tired from lack of sleep, walk straight for the desk where he dumps his messenger bag then pulls out his laptop. He turns now to walk to the couch but stops immediately upon seeing Dave.

He’s looking at Dave with small, dark eyes, through thick-framed glasses, and an intense glare.

“You’re in my seat,” he says.

Karkat’s at the back of the room when he says, “Dave, Sollux. Sollux, Dave.”

Dave waves at him, catching a few notable features such as the two studded piercings beneath Sollux’s lips and the tattoos on his arms, but Sollux only continues walking toward the couch. Dave scoots over just as Sollux drops down to sit next to him. He doesn’t pay any mind to Dave and simply begins typing away on his computer in the speed of light. He looks to be working on some code.

 _The programmer_ , Dave remembers. He raises his eyebrow and looks at Karkat, as though to ask him if Sollux always acted this way. Karkat shrugs his shoulders as if to tell him yes, it happens all the time and Dave shouldn’t be bothered by it. Dave thinks about it but decides that after living with Karkat for what seems like ages, he doesn’t mind at all.

It’s not long after that when the bell rings again. This time, a man who’s at least half a foot taller than Karkat walks in with a backpack over his shoulder. His skin is almost as dark as Karkat’s and his hair is just as messy, if not messier. His face, on the other hand, is full of tattoos - or rather, a single tattoo that resembles a human skull, albeit a colorful one, complete with numerous swirls and some flowers. Karkat will tell Dave later on that this is a  _calavera_ , or a sugar skull as it’s popularly called, something that represents one’s ancestors.

The man, leaving his backpack by the desk, also doesn’t notice Dave when he walks in. Instead, his eyes are on Karkat and he greets him in full-on Spanish. It would make sense, obviously, that Karkat replies in Spanish as well.

 _Of fucking course_ , Dave thinks, clenching his teeth. Sollux continues to type away.

The other two converse for a while, without a word that Dave can understand. It’s only when the man turns to Sollux does he see Dave, but even then he doesn’t stop speaking in Spanish. He turns back to ask Karkat a question, probably about who Dave is, and Karkat answers him in Spanish still. The only thing Dave understands is his own name, but even _that_ is almost difficult to catch when someone was saying it so quickly.

But when Karkat rolls his tongue at Dave’s  _r’s_ , dear  _lord_. He’s even smirking suspiciously, causing Dave to blush and furrow his brows.

With a grin, the stranger turns to him. He then reaches out a hand and says, “ _No hablas español, señor_?”

Dave takes the hand and shakes it. “Uhh, no?”

The man laughs. “Don’t worry,  _amigo_ , I won’t make your life difficult. The name’s Gamzee.”

“Gamzee,” Dave repeats, trying to put on a smile, “I’m Dave, but you probably already knew that.” He steals a quick look at Karkat who’s trying hard not to snicker.

“ _Si_ , I did. And any friend of Karkat’s is a friend of mine. Please, make yourself at home.” With a warm smile of his own, Gamzee takes a small bow before proceeding to help Karkat with the equipment.

Dave sighs and sinks into his seat. That was enough Spanish for one day.

Fortunately (or unfortunately?) for him, he doesn’t hear Karkat utter another Spanish word because soon, the shop officially opens for the day and a client walks right in ten minutes later. Karkat’s first to work on tattoos, while Gamzee is in charge of double-checking all of the equipment. Sollux is still typing, and Dave has nothing to focus on.

He really doesn’t want to be caught staring at Karkat, but he does. Stare. At Karkat.

He watches Karkat as he takes off his jacket, washes his hands, puts on his gloves, sterilizes needles, and makes sure the client’s skin is clean. He watches him as he adds a stencil on someone’s arm, someone else’s leg, someone’s back. And then he watches as Karkat traces the stencils with ink, colors them in, finishes up, and moves on to the next client. He watches him even when he isn’t busy, when he takes out some pen and paper to design a new tattoo, when he walks over to Gamzee to help him out with something, when he stands up and stretches and a bit of _stomach_ shows,  _holy shit_.

It’s all new to Dave. He’s never really seen a tattoo being applied to someone’s skin, let alone witnessed a day in the life of a tattoo artist. If he were honest, he’d say everything was pretty amazing, mostly because he had enjoyed watching Karkat look so  _focused_ , like nothing else really mattered.

 _God_ , he wishes Karkat would look at him like that, wishes he’d work his hands on Dave with as much grace as when he works on his clients.

Of course, thinking this way outside the safety and privacy of his own bedroom is probably not advisable. Luckily enough, something happens to get him out of this train of thought. Something  _bad_ , sure, but it’s still something.

It’s already well past 6PM when a male client walks into the studio. Karkat and Gamzee had been working on some designs when he did. Sollux had transferred to the desk, and Dave had shifted to the other end of the couch to get a closer look at what Karkat was doing. The client, a large man with two-day-old stubble on his chin and a terrible bald spot at the back of his head, also has several tattoos on his arms. Many of them were very sexual depictions of women.

With a sheet of paper at hand, he walks to Karkat and confidently says, “I want this tattooed on my back,” as though he’s certain Karkat will get the job done, no questions asked. Dave gets a feeling he doesn’t come here very often.

Karkat turns and looks the customer straight in the eye for more than a standard glance, before taking the piece of paper and studying its contents. Gamzee leans over to take a peek.

The look on Gamzee’s face turns sour. Karkat’s expression is the same one he’d worn when Dave answered the door the day they met, and the air in the room grows as heavy as it did in their living room the night before.

Karkat keeps his composure as he looks up at the man.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “but we can’t do this. It’s strictly against our store’s policy. Please visit another studio that’s willing to ink this.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Obviously, the man isn’t pleased.

“As I’ve said, it’s strictly against our store’s policy. I’m sure that wherever you had your tattoos done, you could–”

The man’s expression is something Dave can’t see, but he’s certain it isn’t any prettier than Karkat’s, because the next thing the man does is grab Karkat by the shirt and pull him to his feet.

It brings everyone else to their feet.

“What  _fucking_  policy? You telling me you can’t tattoo a couple of goddamn words?”

“Sir, if you would like, I could refer you a list of parlors that would–”

“Fuck you and your list! I came in here because I heard you were good, not to mention _cheap_. If you’re going to have me pay  _more_  for a bunch of text, I’ll–”

“Hey now,  _amigo_ , there’s no need to–”

“Back the  _fuck_  off,  _skully_!” the man spits, glaring at Gamzee for an instant before turning back to Karkat, “Are you going to tattoo this or are you not?”

Karkat finally snarls. “I think I made it very clear that we  _won’t_. Ever. Not even for more money. I’d explain why, but I’m not sure your misogynistic  _fuck_ -brain can understand a concept so simple.”

“You calling me  _stupid!?_ ”

“See? Couldn’t even wrap your head around the word  _fuck-brain_.”

When the client raises a hand and forms a fist, Dave has no time to think. He catches himself moving swiftly to stand between the two men.

“Hey man, let’s not do anything rash.”

“And who the  _fuck_  are you?”

“Someone who doesn’t use the word ‘fuck’ in every sentence, that’s for sure,” Dave says, clearly without thinking it through either. The man lets go of Karkat but raises his fist even higher. “I mean–! Look,  _dude!_  We’re not looking for any trouble. Do you really want a fight, right here, right now?”

“That a fucking challenge,  _punk_?”

“Well, I’m not  _technically_  a punk. I  _did_  try to look like one today, though, because I’m new and everything. Thanks for thinking I was one.” Dave stops a moment, then he beams. “Hey! It means it actually worked, didn’t it?”

“It’ll work even more after I crack your  _fucking_  skull in,” the man continues to raise his fist  _and_  his voice every single time, face turning red in rage - and it’s exactly how Dave needed it to be.

“Go ahead, really. I’d punch me, too, if I had to deal with me,” Dave says quickly with a grin and before the man could do anything. Karkat’s looking at him like he’d gone mad, but Dave goes on and adds:

“That is, of course, if I didn’t want anybody outside calling the cops.”

Outside the store, a small crowd had gathered while Dave kept agitating the man. They’re all pushing to try and get a better look, and there’s a lot of whispering, too. The client, lowering his fist, turns to see this and is immediately defeated. He looks at Dave with his teeth bared and looks like he still wants to throw the punch. Dave’s afraid he actually will.

Instead, he pushes Dave back hard enough so that he crashes onto Karkat, who in turn catches Dave but has to support himself with the chair behind him. The man then marches out of the studio, trying his best to ignore all the eyes that follow him.

Gamzee and Sollux are quick to move and disperse the crowd, while Karkat and Dave straighten up. They’re standing dangerously close and Dave has to step aside so he doesn’t blush like an idiot a second time.

“Do you get guys like that often?” he asks.

“Not many, but more than I’d prefer.” Karkat groans, taking a seat. He’s hunching forward and rubbing his temples, visibly worn out from the whole ordeal.

Dave watches him and is about to provide some sort of comfort until something catches his eye - the paper the client had come in with is on the floor. It must have fallen sometime in the middle of the commotion. Dave bends down to pick it up.

Written on it are the words “Bitch, You Belong In The Kitchen” in fancy lettering.

“Wow, what a dick.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Karkat sighs.

“You handled it pretty well, though.”

“You, too.” Karkat looks up at him. “Thanks. If you didn’t step in, I would have punched the guy myself.”

Dave snorts.

Gamzee approaches them and sighs. He looks at Dave with a small smile, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he looks at Karkat and speaks to him, once again asking him something in Spanish. Rather than the joking tone he had earlier, he now sounds more concerned.

Karkat doesn’t answer right away, so Gamzee asks again.

“I’ll be  _fine_ , Gamzee,” Karkat says, irritated, now leaning back against the chair, “You know this happened before.”

Another response in Spanish. Gamzee says something about Kanaya, but Dave isn’t able to catch anything else to piece together what he was saying.

Karkat _insists_ that he’s alright.

“Nah, KK, you look like shit.”

“As always,  _thank you_  for your help, Sollux.”

Once again, a couple more Spanish and concern from Gamzee.

Angrily, Karkat starts spouting back in that language. He throws a bit of a fit and Dave’s worried another crowd will gather at the door. But eventually Karkat slows down and says, “I  _can’t_  just take a break. I’m supposed to be here. A client’s coming in later tonight because we have an appointment, and the very  _definition_  of an appointment is that the other party and I have to meet.”

“Well, technically, you just arranged a meeting. You can always cancel.”

“Thank you,  _Dave_ , for being our favorite walking dictionary. You’re on a roll today. And you’re right, I  _could_  cancel, but that wouldn’t be professional.”

Gamzee looks pained. “I can handle it,  _amigo_. Don’t you trust me?”

“You  _know_  I do, Gamzee, but–”

“Then I can handle it,” he sighs, “Go on, grab a cup of coffee or take a walk or something, yeah?”

“Where would I even  _go_?” Karkat snaps.

“I know a place,” Dave says, raising a hand. He’s rewarded with a glare but carries on. “I could take you there. It’s far, but it’s a good go-to place when you’re bummed. Or, you know, when you need to blow off some steam because of some jerk customer, I promise.”

“Won’t you be late for work?”

“My boss won’t mind. And anyway, there’s a new guy at work who can fill in for me if I’m not around. He could use the experience.”

Karkat stares at him for a moment. Dave’s about to say more but Karkat sighs.

He looks at Gamzee who has a look on his face that’s telling him he should just go for it, just run wild and free! Behind Gamzee is the tip-tapping of Sollux already back to work on his computer. Dave’s just waiting for an answer.

With another groan, Karkat gives in. “ _Fine._ ”

“Awesome! We’ll take the train. I absolutely hate parking in that area.”

\- - -

The train ride is long. It takes about an hour to get to their destination, and the trip came with crowds of people looking forward to getting home, the push and pull of them getting in and out of the train, the smell of piss and alcohol, and the constant whining from Karkat who kept asking Dave if the trip was even worth it.

For each time that Karkat asked this, Dave would tell him that, yes, the trip was worth it.

He says they can even stay until the sun goes down. “Less people that way. We’d actually have some place to sit, too.”

“ _Dave_. You’re not skipping work for me.”

“What are you talking about? I can still make it to work after this.”

“The moment we get back it’ll be 9 or 10. When you get to the club, it’ll be either 10 or 11 and you’ll have missed three to four hours of work already. That’s either almost or at least half the time you’re actually supposed to be working. Clean-up doesn’t count unless you get paid for it.”

“Karkat, by the time we get to where we’re going, it’ll already be the start of my shift. You’d think I’d have known that. I’m not an idiot.”

“So _why_ bring me there? Why even stay past 5PM at the shop when you know you still have to drive to work? I kept telling you to go, but you kept insisting that you wouldn’t be late and now–”

“Because I wanted to.”

Karkat raises a brow. “You wanted to?”

Dave opens his mouth to say something but doesn’t, not right away. “Shit, that just came out of my mouth but- I, uh, yeah, I wanted to stay with you. At the shop. I could have left but I didn’t, _aaaand_ …thanks to _that_ , _you_ didn’t get punched in the face. The other guy would have gotten punched in the face, but what’s done is done. And now, more importantly, I want you to bring you to my go-to place.”

“It would have been nice to punch that guy in the face.”

“Yeah, it so totally would have and you would have told me all about it.”

“What makes you think I’d tell you about it?”

“Because we’re friends now, and I’d bug you about your black eye. And if _I_ got to punch someone in the face, I’d tell _you_ about it.”

“Oh, you think I’d have let _him_ punch me in the face?”

“He was a big guy!”

“You wouldn’t have known that if you weren’t there and _where the hell are we even going?_ ”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

Karkat rolls his eyes. “Did you at least tell your boss you’ll be late for work?”

“Remember when I said I had to use the bathroom before boarding the train?”

“Yeah?”

“I already called in sick.”

“ _Dave!_ ”

“ _What?_ My boss loves me. I always make up for it, trust me.”

“Sure, tell me to trust a guy who kidnapped me from work and won’t even tell me where we’re going.”

“ _Hey_ , you agreed to go.”

“I did. But this is still a kidnapping.”

“Well, _technically_ -”

“Shut up, Dave, it was a joke.”

Dave grins.

Fortunately for the both of them, the train arrives at their stop shortly after. It’s a place that Karkat isn’t familiar with, so he has no idea what’s so great about it. Dave teases him and tells him he’ll see it once they leave the station, and Karkat is about to throw another tantrum until they _do_ step out of the station.

But there’s nothing extraordinary about it. It looks like any other city, with buildings and people and cars.

So Karkat throws a tantrum.

Dave laughs and leads him down the street. Karkat doesn’t shut up until they reach the end of it, yelling at Dave with several variations of “Are we there yet?” and “Are we _fucking_ there yet?”

When they get there, Karkat doesn’t have the words.

The place Dave had been wanting to bring him to was a beach, a long stretch of sand with a good handful of palm trees and absolutely no one else around. The ground is so soft beneath their feet it’s tempting Karkat to take his shoes off. The water is several meters away, but they can still hear the soft crashing of the waves against the shore and the calling of the seagulls in the distance. The breeze is gentle, almost inviting as Dave brings Karkat closer to the sea. They stop when the water is within a few feet’s reach and the waves are louder - not angry, but rather soothing, enough to quiet down the cars and the people behind them.

Karkat takes a deep breath to take in the salty scent of the ocean. He looks up; the clouds are scarce and the sun is already slowly approaching dusk.

Dave is watching him with a smile.

Neither of them says anything for the next several minutes, but Dave can hardly discipline himself.

“Admit it. It’s a good go-to place.”

“It isn’t. It’s a _very_ good go-to place.”

“Heh.” Dave closes his eyes and allows the wind brush his face. “John and I would come here all the time when we had the chance to. He’d particularly like it when it was windy.”

“Doesn’t anybody _else_ go here? I mean, if I knew this place existed, I’d have gone here more often. It’s not _Hawaii_ or anything, but who the hell wants to keep going back to Hawaii? It’s packed with tourists.”

“And smelly feet.”

“Smelly feet! And the smell of _sun tan lotion_? Eugh!”

Dave laughs. “Nah, no one else comes here at this time of year. Cold water and all. It’s bad when it’s summer, though. Nearly as many people as Hawaii.” He smiles, pausing. “You ever been so far out of town? You asked me if _I_ wanted to travel, but I never got to ask you the same thing.”

“I don’t like travelling. It sounds _exhausting_. A plane for twelve hours? Hell no. A seven-hour train ride? Couldn’t even last long on the way here. Don’t even get me started on road trips. They are out of the question. I like staying where I am, here.”

Dave takes a peek to see that Karkat has his eyes closed, too, breeze combing through his messy hair. Dave’s smile grows wider.

“Yeah. I like it here, too.”

Karkat hums and doesn’t say much else. They continue to relax like this, just standing there - light trying to fight its way into their eyelids, trees dancing, their breaths coming in-sync with the waves, waves still crashing, seagulls still calling.

It’s peaceful, and yet when Dave drowns in the sound of everything, he finds that he’s suddenly aware of something else entirely.

He’s afraid again.

It scares Dave that Karkat is so close to him - a good distance away, sure, but the silence is making it feel as though they were mere centimetres apart. It scares him, too, that he could just stand here with him for, well, _forever_ \- but he has no idea if Karkat wanted to, too. And it scares him that Karkat is right here, that Karkat exists, that Karkat _is_ , and he’s scared that suddenly, he’ll vanish. He’s scared that Karkat can hear his heart racing and that he’ll freak out and he’ll run and _leave_. He’s scared that the beating of his heart becomes _deafening_ , and that _anyone_ a mile away will flee.

But it’s OK. It’s alright, because right now, Karkat is here. Karkat _is_ and will be right here, with him, for the next few seconds, the next few minutes, maybe _hours_ if Dave is lucky. It’s alright because Karkat is breathing softly, humming peacefully, and Dave can hear it. Dave can hear his breathing follow the rhythm of the waves, and Dave can feel Karkat’s fingers clinging on to his sleeve and the wind picks up and–

“ _Shit!_ ”

There is a sudden, strong gush of wind blowing from Karkat’s side. Dave snaps his eyes open to look at Karkat who has his eyes shut tight. His face is inches away from Dave’s and his hand is on Dave’s shoulder, but before Dave could do anything, the wind blows harder so that his shades falls off and sand gets into his eyes.

“ _Fuck!_ ”

He moves quickly to cover them with both his arms, but by doing so, he pulls Karkat toward him and they tumble backwards and fall flat on the sand. The wind blows hard for a while, so much that they start yelling, but it eventually soothes back down to a breeze, and then the men are trying to catch their breath.

It all happened so fast that, once he could breathe, Dave bursts out laughing. Karkat, on the other hand, is groaning and grumbling. He’s half lying on Dave, so he rolls off him to lie on his back instead. His arm is touching Dave’s, and their heads are a good few inches apart. Upon recovering some air, Karkat looks to his side, sees Dave’s sunglasses, and passes it back to him.

“Here you go,” he pants softly.

“Thanks, man.”

Dave takes it by the hinge but doesn’t put it on, because when he looks at Karkat, the man is looking up at the sky and his features are outlined with the bright orange from the sun.

Dave forgets to breathe.

A part of him wants to turn away to look at the sunset; another part of him wants to turn away so he wouldn’t get caught staring, but _most_ of him can’t help it. They’re so close he’s almost certain Karkat had already noticed anyway.

“Do you ever try to see how many colors the sky can turn?”

Dave blinks. The question catches him off-guard.

“No, why?”

“It’s _indescribable_. When I was ten, and my dad was finally able to buy me some paint, I tried to paint the sky, but I was never satisfied with just blue. It never looked right, but all the other kids seemed happy with it. They told me to use different shades of blue, but I couldn’t have it. I didn’t know why, but I wouldn’t stand for _just_ a blue sky.

“So I tried green. Then I tried purple, and they all looked weird. _Alien_ , even.”

He scoffs, then smirks before carrying on.

“But then I tried mixing the colors, and it worked _wonders_. Mind you, I was only ten and had no idea what I was doing, so it’s not as great as it sounds. And at that age, I just wanted to have a cool painting. I didn’t really appreciate the sky, didn’t know how to. I even hated it when my dad died. I hated it when we had a memorial for him.

“The sky was a terrible, _terrible_ gray. It was raining, and I hated the rain for killing my dad. Eventually, I learned that it wasn’t the rain that had killed him, not alone anyway. He was… Well, he was a bad drunk, probably drank the night he died, too. Cliché way to go, right? Car crash in the rain while driving drunk?

“It gets worse. The cliché, I mean. What do people usually tell kids to wait for after the rain?”

“Uhm, the sun? Clear blue sky?”

“Well, _yeah_ , but what else? What do you tell _kids_ to wait for, Dave?”

“A rainbow?”

“A _rainbow_. I’d tell you I saw a rainbow after the memorial and everything was OK, but I didn’t see anything but gray for _months_. Until one day, my _tia_ told me, ‘ _Karkat Manuelo Vantas Rojas_ , you need to step out of this house this instant!’ And I didn’t listen to her right away, but she nagged me like she was my mother. She kind of was, actually, to be honest.

“Anyway, I still didn’t want to go out. I went straight to the room I shared with Kanaya and Porrim. They weren’t there, they were out playing in the street with all the other kids. The curtains were closed, but only partly, and there was a soft beam of light seeping into the room. It led me to the boxes where I had dumped all of the drawings and paintings I did for my dad. I looked through them until I saw a drawing of a, you guessed it, a _rainbow_. It was done when I was seven or something, with crayons and all the wrong colors, so I thought it was crap, but my dad _kept it_. He kept it, and every other god-ugly drawing I did.

“I looked outside and the kids from my neighborhood were jumping on puddles and getting dirty. Back then, the sky had cleared up after it rained, and it was so clear and so _blue_. I thought I’d never miss the blue, but I did, and it was also a kind of yellow and green that you couldn’t see unless you’re me or unless you squinted real hard, so I ran out. I’d stopped drawing when my dad died, but on that day, I ran out and I said, ‘I want to paint this.’ I mean, I didn’t say it to anyone, just to myself. But I did. I wanted to paint it, so I did. I painted it. I thought maybe, just _maybe_ , my dad was still out there, waiting for me to draw.

“And that’s why I wanted to major in art.”

Karkat lets out a deep and heavy sigh, still looking up at the clouds. Dave had been watching the entire time. There’s still a bit of orange left in the sky when Karkat finishes, a bit of orange still outlining the edges of his face, and there is that same shine in his eyes Dave had come to love earlier.

He averts his glance and looks up at the sky, wanting to see what Karkat saw in it. Dave sees that it is, in fact, made of several colors, not just a single one. As of the moment, it’s a mixture of different oranges and yellows, of purples and pinks. He looks to one side and there’s a blanket of blue slowly rolling in which then fades into a much darker shade in the distance.

Dave couldn’t really see it unless he squinted real hard.

“ _Shit_.”

“I know, right? Shittiest sob story ever. I’ve… never really told anyone that, _shit_.”

“No, I mean, ‘shit, the sky is so pretty.’ Why have I never seen the sky like that before?”

“Obviously you don’t have an eye for these things, David. You picked music.”

Dave sits up, shifting the sand beneath him, and shoots a glare at Karkat. “Hey, music is an art form, too!”

“Yeah, yeah. I was kidding. _God_ , take a joke.” The smirk Karkat puts on is _priceless_.

There’s a grin that finds its way onto Dave’s face, and he’s messing Karkat’s hair like he’s known him for years. “That’s rich, coming from _you_.”

“Wh- Hey, watch it!” Karkat brings up his arms to defend himself before he sits up to mess Dave’s hair and get back at him, but Dave’s already on his feet and running. Karkat gets up and chases him.

“See if you can keep up, _Manuelo!_ Haha!”

“That is the _last_ time I’m ever opening up to you again, asshole! Get back here!”

They run around like this for a while, chasing each other and screaming profanities at one another and falling back onto the sand at least twice, until the night slowly rolls in and they decide it’s high-time they headed on home. On the way there, the train is less crowded, as expected, and Dave and Karkat sit side by side in silence, enjoying each other’s presence.

When they get home, Karkat is first to hit the showers. They then have dinner together, and Karkat thanks Dave for the fun day. After they clean up, he wishes him good night before going straight to bed. It puts a big smile on Dave’s face.

Actually, it gets Dave through the entire week. When he goes to work the following evening, he receives a lecture from his boss for lying to her about being sick, but she forgives him in an instant and asks if he could take the Saturday shift. He says no, because he’s got a date and some jalapeño poppers to look forward to, but says he could take the Sunday shift instead. His boss tries to fish for details, but he dodges all of her attempts to do so by actually getting some work done.

Every morning after that is a happy drive home because Dave can’t wait any longer to see Karkat again. Whenever he arrives at the apartment, he showers more quickly so that he can watch Karkat cook breakfast and then proceed to eat it and all its deliciousness. They talk more, joke more, and laugh more, and Dave thinks life couldn’t get any better than this.

On one morning in particular, Dave gets out of work later than usual and has to take a different and longer route due to a road blockade. It angers him, at least up until something catches his eye: there is a park that he’s never stopped by before, but at this time of year it looked absolutely _stunning_ , so much so that Dave almost has a panic attack and he immediately searches for the nearest parking space. Luckily for him, only a few people are even up at this hour. And when he does park his car, he steps right out and walks straight into the park.

The sun had just begun to seep through the trees, whose leaves are a mix of different shades of brown, red, and orange. The ground is covered with as much color as the trees are, and in as many shades, what with patches of shadows and warm sunlight here and there. The squirrels are just beginning to wake up, and there are birds singing, and Dave feels like he’s never seen so much _orange_ in his life.

He takes a deep breath of fresh air and thinks about how _amazing_ it would be to watch Karkat paint such a scenery. He thinks maybe he should take a photo, but is worried he might not capture it as well enough as Karkat would. So instead, he stands there to take it all in to memory, and then maybe, just maybe, he could describe it to Karkat later.

He stands there for a long time, but he’s not sure how long he does so, not really. Neither does he actually realize it until later on when his phone beeps, telling him he’s just received a new text message. He swiftly whips it out, thinking Karkat may have been looking for him, but instead of Karkat’s name, he sees Rose’s.

It reads:

_Hey, Dave. I’m throwing a Halloween party next week._

_Invite Karkat. ;)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is inspired by that one time someone told me to get a spades tattoo on my hip. I would have mentioned it in the last chapter, but it would have spoiled it! :p
> 
> Sadly, I can't find the link to my other inspiration for this chapter. Once upon a time, I saw fan art with either Karkat or Kankri as a tattoo artist throwing a tantrum because a customer wanted some bigoted/racist/sexist tattoo. I think Porrim and Gamzee were with him. If anyone knows what I'm referring to, please let me know in the comments! It would help me give proper credit. ;v;
> 
> There's a technique (?) I used somewhere in there that was inspired by Rainbow Rowell's 'Fangirl'! I really enjoyed that book and the writing style has inspired me ever since I read it. :')
> 
> I think that's about all!
> 
> Thanks again for reading! UvU
> 
> PS. I'll try my best to shorten the next wait! If it seems like I'm writing this spontaneously, don't worry about it. I've got the entire fic planned out. XD Still, please go easy on me, thank you! ;v;
> 
> PPS. I'm just finding it funny how badly I talked about ads when I'm a marketing major, so... Haha! :b


	3. Eyes Of Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who left comments and kudos on the last chapter! They're very much appreciated. :')
> 
> I think it's been about three to four weeks since I updated? I tried my best to shorten the wait, but a couple of things came up, real life happened, and I also wanted to better my plot. So even though I said I have everything planned, I'm still bound to make some changes. Not to mention the actual writing can be tiring (although really fun, of course!).
> 
> Additionally, this chapter turned out to be much longer than expected, just about as long as the last. Give or take about five hundred words, sure.
> 
> Anyway! *huffs* I don't to keep you waiting any longer. I hope you enjoy! :'D

**(03) Eyes Of Green**

It’s not the first time Dave messes up at work. But it _is_ the first time in a long time.

His hands are working his turntables, switching tracks, turning knobs, sliding faders – his eyes are watching the crowd on the dance floor, his ears are taking in the sound of the music, his head is bobbing to the beat, his body is swaying back and forth as he’s working.

But his mind wanders.

His mind wanders to that one morning last week when he had arrived home later than usual, that same morning he wasn’t greeted by the delicious smell of breakfast, the morning he found Karkat once again on the couch – except on that morning, Karkat was neither drunk nor unconscious. Rather, he was entirely sober, and he’d been _waiting_.

He had obviously made some sort of attempt so that it didn’t _seem_ like he was waiting for Dave, holding the newspaper to his face so that it looked like he’d been reading it for an hour or so. But Dave somehow knew Karkat wouldn’t just step out of his morning routine to read about the latest on _women’s fashion_.

“I’m looking for ideas, for new designs,” was his excuse, “And anyway, breakfast is best fresh.”

Dave’s mind continues to wander.

It wanders to how, on that morning, Karkat had allowed him to stand next to him as he cooked. It wanders to the memory of potatoes and beef and then to the memory of peaceful silence, never mind the sound of cooking oil sizzling. And then it recalls the feeling of Karkat’s arm brushing against Dave’s own, the sight of sweat dripping down Karkat’s skin, the swiftness of Karkat’s hands as he reached for the eggs, the sound of Karkat’s tongue rolling as he talked about growing up, as he impersonated his _tia_ , as he spoke to Dave in _Spanish_.

And then Dave’s mind is snapped back to reality.

His boss is shaking him roughly as though to wake him up. And even after that, it only dawns onto Dave that he’d let his focus drift when he sees that the people on the dance floor are unhappy. Some are staring at him, waiting for him to play properly again, while others are mumbling words to their friends and quite a few decide to just _leave_. It causes Dave’s chest to ache, but he has no time to react. His boss is telling him that maybe he should take a break and that maybe they should let the new guy take over for a while.

Then Dave soon finds himself by the bar, quietly brushing his beer bottle with his thumb.

He’s never let anything distract him from mixing before.

It’s the Friday before Rose’s Halloween party, and Dave can’t get his mind off his roommate. Their time together has been no different than in the last few weeks, but Dave had started becoming conscious every time Karkat was even remotely near him. He’s especially alert whenever Karkat is almost _touching_ him, and Dave would always wish for Karkat to touch him _more_.

 _God_ , why did he ever bring Karkat to the beach?

He’s not used to this, not used to having something, or rather _someone_ fill his head. Nothing, and definitely not anybody, has ever in his whole life blocked _music_ from being the center of his attention before.

But he can’t help it.

He takes a sip of his beer, wiping his lips with his sleeve once finished.

Turning to the dance floor, he sees that the crowd gradually grows calm again. Well, not so much calm as dancing and swaying, jumping up and down to the new mix, and getting their drinks to spill all over the tiles – which Dave _may_ have to help clean up later, but at least it looks as though the crowd had forgotten Dave’s little slip up. If Dave’s lucky, it’ll probably end up in some YouTube compilation at most. Hopefully, it doesn’t hurt his reputation or cost The Cove any of its regulars. His boss will throw a bitch fit if that ever happened, but he’ll swear he’ll make up for it.

He takes another sip of beer.

He tells himself a break from being up front is not so bad every once in a while. The bar, though as crowded as any other part of the club, is also full of interesting people. Here and there are couples getting their mack on, sure, which doesn’t entirely help Dave with his situation, but there are also groups of friends just hanging out, strangers meeting other strangers, men flirting with women, women flirting with men, and whatnot.

Dave recalls his visit to Karkat’s parlor, when they’d started people-watching to pass the time and creating stories for everyone that passed by. He decides to try it here, and that maybe it’ll get Karkat out of his mind, at least for a while.

The most noticeable person is a man with an eyepatch not far from Dave. Dave would think he was wearing it for show, but when he sees the man’s grumpy face, he’s almost convinced the man actually needs it. Maybe he’s part of some mob group. Heck, he might even be the leader of one. There’s no one else with him, though, save for a very tall woman in a glossy black dress. She had dark hair and thick, blood-red lipstick on. Dave can’t tell if they’re dating. He thinks she’s likely just the man’s partner in crime. Whatever the case, they don’t look like they’re up to any good.

The next person to catch Dave’s attention is a quiet, lanky man in nothing but a loose green shirt, denim jeans, and sneakers. He approaches the bar, orders a drink, and takes a seat once the woman next to him leaves. And then he just... well, _sits there_. Dave thinks he doesn’t have any company with him either, at least until the man pulls out a small, velvety box. He’s biting his thick bottom lip like he shouldn’t have brought it out, but he opens it anyway, just to check on its contents, and Dave sees the diamond ring.

He has to stop himself from smirking. He thinks the guy is crazy if he’s planning to propose to anyone in _that_ outfit. And in a club, nonetheless!

But then Dave decides that it’s not his business, so he looks for someone else to stare at.

There’s a couple that’s different from the rest, because unlike the others, they aren’t making out or flirting. They’re just standing there, arms around each other and staring into each other’s eyes. The girl - with long, curly hair and who is much shorter than the guy – mouths something that makes him smile. He has hair that’s just as puffy and wild as his girlfriend’s and the way he’s looking at her, the way he makes it seem like her eyes are holding the _universe_ in them, is how Dave sometimes wishes Karkat would look at _him_.

Dave instantly shakes his head to get rid of the thought and averts his gaze. His cheeks start to feel warm, and he’s hoping it’s because of the alcohol.

At the very end of the bar, Dave spots two women giggling and whispering mischievously to one another. What catches Dave’s eye aren’t the girls themselves – who are both very pretty in their own right – but instead, the fact that they have tattoos on their arms that look _very_ familiar.

Of course, Dave could be wrong and maybe Karkat hadn’t been the one to design them, but he doesn’t see the harm of acting out on a hunch. And anyway, they _are_ giving him the eye. He might as well approach them. So he does.

“Evening, ladies,” he greets them with a smile, “Mind if I join you?”

They giggle again.

“Nah, we don’t mind,” says the brunette with thick-framed glasses, acting cool to the best of her capabilities. Dave would say she’s pretty good at it, almost as good as himself even. Her friend, a woman with small eyes and hair that’s obviously dyed red, is biting her bottom lip and watching Dave hungrily, almost to the point it makes him uncomfortable.

Dave ignores it and takes a seat next to them. “So, you two come here often?”

They laugh. This time, the redhead speaks up.

“You probably know several hundreds of tracks and song titles, maybe even thousands of them, and that’s the best line you can come up with?”

Dave smirks. “Quick and witty, I like it. Not to mention you know who I am.”

“Of course.” The redhead smirks back at him. “You’re the guy who stands up front all night _and_ is the only actual person in here who’s wearing a pair of shades. You _do_ know that the only people who actually wear shades indoors are blind people and–”

“Douchebags.” Dave grins. “Yeah, I know.”

The redhead seems impressed. Her friend smiles and rolls her eyes. “I think what my friend meant to say is that, no, we don’t actually come here often.”

“Oh? Wouldn’t have guessed it. But it _does_ explain why I’ve never seen your two lovely faces here before.”

“Do you come down here _all_ the time to hit on chicks?”

“OK, OK. You caught me-” Dave raises his hands, grinning still, “-It’s obvious I’m new at this, isn’t it?”

The redhead laughs. “Not particularly, no.”

“Wait, really? Damn, that’s a relief,” Dave says, smiling and acting reassured. The women giggle again. “Hey, foreplay and bullshit aside, can I just ask you two something?”

The brunette is quick to reply. “Sure, but only if you tell us something we want to know, too.”

“Fair enough,” he answers, giving them a nod of his head. He then takes a deep breath and says, “OK, not to be blunt or anything, but I was thinking of getting a tattoo. I thought you two beautiful ladies would be kind enough to let me know where I could get one – except... well, now I know for a fact that one of you isn’t really all that nice.”

The redhead smirks. Dave continues. “ _So_ – where should a guy like me go to get inked?”

“Well,” the brunette answers, “Indigo’s is a good place. It’s right around the corner.”

Dave raises his brow. “That’s where you got your tattoos?”

“Oh, these? Yeah. Our good friend runs the shop.”

“We tell everyone to go there,” the redhead adds, “We don’t really trust any other shop to do as good of a job as Indi’s.”

“Oh. So, uh, not at Knyght’s Inks? You know, like ‘knight’ except with a ‘y’?”

Both women looked confused, the brunette especially. “Uhm, no, not really? Listen, we’re probably not the best people to ask about this. We only just got these on a whim several years ago.”

“Oh, it’s... It’s cool. Sorry I bothered you about it, then.”

Dave scratches the back of his neck, and the two ladies are worried he’ll want to back out of the conversation. When he assures them that it’s alright, the brunette beams.

“OK, so we just wanted to ask you – you’re Dave Strider, right? _The_ Dave Strider?”

Dave is surprised. He was so preoccupied with other thoughts that he’d never guessed anyone would ask him that tonight. And anyway, he’s never even been asked that before, not in that way at least. There was never a _‘the’_ before his name.

“Yeah, that’s me. I mean, I didn’t realize I made a name for myself, but I’m, uh, the one and only, I guess.”

“So you’re _Dirk’s_ brother?”

 _Shit_. He should have seen that coming.

He affirms her suspicions, with a bit of reluctance. “Like I said, the one and only.”

“So you know how we can contact him? We’re _huge_ fans.”

“I... don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Aww, c’mon! _Please_?”

“I really don’t think-”

“ _Hey!_ ”

Before Dave could finish his sentence, someone taps him rather forcefully on the shoulder. Confused, he turns to see who his offender is – but immediately wishes he hadn’t.

The man before him has grown quite a beard since Dave saw him last, but he looks even bigger and his face is just as red. It’s as though they had only seen each other yesterday, only this time, the guy reeks of alcohol and has a few friends by his side to back him up.

“You the punk I saw at Knyght’s?”

“Whoa, hey there, big guy, I–”

“If _you’re_ gonna tell me _one more time_ that you aren’t a punk because of fucking technicalities, I’m going to smash your _fucking_ face in with my fist.”

Dave quickly gets to his feet and steps in front of the women. Out of instinct, he takes his shades off in case things got dirty.

He looks at the man square in the eye and says, “Hey, buddy, calm down, OK?”

Without keeping his eyes off him, Dave tells the women to leave, and they do. But this only agitates the man even more.

“You gonna play hero again, _punk?_ ”

“Dude, just give me a sec and hear me out. I’m not looking for any trouble.”

“Yeah? Well, you should have thought about that when you threatened to call the cops on me.”

“I didn’t-”

The man raises his fist and instantly throws a punch. Dave is quick to avoid it and the several others that follow – but he soon realizes he’d let his guard down, because he finds himself suddenly surrounded by the man’s group of friends. Giving him no time to react, arms pull him into a lock and then a different set of knuckles hit him on the face, _hard_.

And god _damn_ did it hurt.

\- - -

“I didn’t think you’d actually let him punch you.”

The following afternoon, Dave finds himself in the last place he’d expected to be: sitting in front of Karkat, _in_ Karkat’s room, _on_ Karkat’s bed.

But he’s not sitting there for the reasons he wants to be. Rather, he’s having makeup being applied to his face – both for the party and for the purpose of hiding his horrendous black eye.

“He was a big guy,” Dave argues, though without much effort. He still feels like he’d been run over by a train.

“So what happened next?”

“I didn’t get beat much after that. Soon after the guy threw the punch, security pulled him and his goons away. I was talking to two girls before this happened. I’m guessing they’re the ones who called security, but then again, anyone could have. The asshole wasn’t being very subtle.

“Then after that, my boss got their names and faces and banned them from the club.”

“Huh. Serves them right.”

“Hm.”

Dave frowns, and Karkat looks at him with concern, waiting if he was going to say any more. They sit in silence for a few moments, and when Dave says nothing, Karkat sighs.

“Someone from the club called this morning. He told me you’re given Monday off to recover.”

Dave looks at him, surprised. “What? But I’ll be fine by then. A bruise isn’t going to keep me from-”

“They told me you spaced out. Before the fight.”

Karkat is looking at him sternly. Dave blinks and looks away.

“Oh, I just... It was nothing.”

Karkat doesn’t look convinced. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Totally.”

When Dave looks back at Karkat, the latter _still_ doesn’t look convinced. But he doesn’t pester Dave about it and simply continues working on Dave’s makeup.

Dave can tell Karkat isn’t happy. But what can he say? That he was distracted from work because the very person in front of him had become the only thing in his mind? That despite loving music above all else, Dave couldn’t stop thinking about _him?_

He wants to apologize for lying to Karkat, but he feels he doesn’t really have the right to. And even if he does apologize, he’s not sure how to explain himself.

So instead, he sits quietly and studies the room with his eyes.

About a month and a half ago, Dave wouldn’t have expected Karkat’s room to be so tidy. Of course, after getting to know him a little better, it’s not all that shocking anymore, but it still feels like Dave has entered a totally different dimension. Karkat has done a number of things to the room that it doesn’t feel like it’s even a part of the apartment anymore.

The wall behind the desk, as Dave had caught a glimpse of once before, is filled with pieces of paper taped onto it. These contain several sketches and works that are either inked, colored, or both, all of which are signed by Karkat. They aren’t exclusive to tattoo designs either; several sketches are of landscapes and sceneries. Other sketches are of actual people and plenty are of inanimate objects. Karkat also has a few drawings of animals here and there, a good percentage being of Kitty from the parlor. Dave supposes it’s because Karkat sees him every day that he’s much easier to draw than anything else.

Aside from those, there are also plenty of other sketches that haven’t been yet taped to the wall. The ones that aren’t are on a neat pile on the desk, which Karkat had moved from the bedside to the wall opposite of it. The cabinet is still across the bed, where Dave remembers it being, and Dave’s almost tempted to ask how Karkat managed to bring up a few extra pieces of furniture here himself.

In place of the desk being next to the bed, there is now a small, wooden bedside table and a lamp that Dave doesn’t ever recall having. Next to the desk, at the side opposite of the cabinet, there is a wooden bookshelf that’s unfamiliar to Dave as well. It’s filled with several books Dave has never even heard of, save for a few, but Dave doesn’t read much anyway. He’s surprised that Karkat does.

On the desk, along with the many unfinished sketches, are an equally neat pile of notebooks, several other office materials, and Karkat’s laptop. One notebook in particular had been laid down and left open. Its contents include things Dave knew nothing about, stuff like inventory, names of suppliers, and accounts. It’s still hard for Dave to imagine Karkat doing managerial work, despite the evidence before him, but nonetheless, it’s still pretty impressive.

Karkat has his laptop and a Spotify playlist open. There’s a song playing softly that Dave may have heard before but can’t recall the name of. He’s too far from the desk to see any of the text, and it doesn’t help that Karkat’s fingers are on his face.

“Does this hurt?”

“What song is this? It sounds good.”

“ _Dave_. Does. It. Hurt?”

“Ow! Wh- _Karkat!_ When you press down hard like that, hell yeah it’s gonna hurt!”

Karkat sighs and pulls back, adding just a bit more concealer to hide the bruise. He then spreads it around Dave’s skin, gently, so as not to hurt him again. Dave suspects he hurt him on purpose, but he couldn’t really tell.

“The song’s called ‘ _Sex_ ’ by The 1975. They’re not entirely new, but I’m just beginning to discover their music.”

Dave blinks.

“Oh. Cool.”

The way Karkat calmly said ‘sex’ and still gave it a bit of emphasis stops Dave from complaining about, well, anything, leaving them once again in an awkward silence. And yes, Dave is, in fact, a grown man. Yes, he can still get flustered by a certain word if his crush is saying it _and_ is sitting mere inches away from him. It’s perfectly normal.

Dave feels his cheeks grow warm. He’s hoping the makeup is thick enough to hide it.

He’d insisted that he didn’t need to put any makeup on in the first place, because he already _has_ pale skin. He thought he’d make a convincing vampire as is, but Karkat thought otherwise.

“As pale as you already are, Dave, you don’t look like you’ve been dead for the last seven centuries,” was what Karkat told him earlier, “And we still have to hide that black eye of yours.”

Dave couldn’t argue with that – not to mention that by the time Dave was showing off his vampire-esque clothes earlier that day, Karkat was already in his full costume. He was in his usual attire, torn up and dyed to look dirty and bloody. Plus, there is an added bluish tint to any exposed skin, face included, also with areas and smudges that resemble dirt and blood. Karkat even added dark and heavy bags under his eyes, to top it all off.

Dave thought Karkat looked like a pretty realistic zombie. He couldn’t say no to Karkat doing his makeup after that, especially not when Karkat finally invited Dave to his bedroom.

So here they are, sitting together, face-to-face in silence. Dave feels awkward and out of place. Karkat is just focused on doing the best he can to turn his friend into a believable vampire.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“Karkat, I’m _fine_. Dirk and I used to brawl all the time.”

“Is your brother also the size of a giant? Because I’m pretty sure this wasn’t just your average brotherly brawl. Not that I ever had any brothers to brawl with, but...”

Dave sighs. He tries to smile reassuringly. “I’m fine, Karkat, really. I’ve had worse.”

Even now, Karkat still doesn’t look like he believes him. So Dave decides to change the topic.

“Oh! I just remembered. Did you know one of the girls called me a douchebag?”

 “Yeah? Was it because of the shades?”

“It was _definitely_ because of the shades.”

It’s at least enough to make Karkat smirk, even a little bit.

“See? I told you. They make you look like an overly self-important asshole.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t stop wearing them.” Dave grins. “I’m persistent like that.”

“Yes, you’re very stubborn,” Karkat agrees, without hesitation.

Dave is taken aback. He puts on a pout and is about to retaliate but Karkat doesn’t give him the chance to. He asks Dave to close his eyes who then thinks retaliating will only prove Karkat’s point, so he grumbles and complies. Karkat finishes up with some powder, and for some reason, Dave can tell he’s still smirking.

“You’re smiling,” he says, with a matter-of-fact tone.

“No, I’m not,” Karkat replies with almost as much conviction.

“Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice.” Dave wants to take a peek, but Karkat prevents him from doing so. “You’re not turning me into an even uglier mess, are you?”

“Dave, I would never in my life be caught creating something _ugly_.”

“Wow. Karkitty, you... You just sounded overly self-important.”

There is a pause. Dave feels Karkat stop his work momentarily, as if surprised.

Then he hears Karkat laugh.

“Well, I guess that’s why we’re such good friends.”

Dave grins. He finds that he can’t say anything after that, because hearing it from Karkat was more than enough to make him smile from ear to ear. Karkat complains and tells him to keep still because he isn’t finished. Dave just laughs and has to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from grinning even more, if it was still possible.

He doesn’t have his eyes closed for much longer, though. When Karkat pulls the brush away and doesn’t touch Dave’s face again for some time, Dave can’t help but open his eyes a little to take a peek – but what he sees next causes him to open his eyes completely.

Karkat is staring directly at him, quietly, and hazel brown meets amber for the first time.

Dave sits frozen in place. He’s not sure if he should say something or look away, so he finds himself staring back into Karkat’s eyes. At this close a distance, he can see that Karkat’s eyes aren’t just brown – along the edges of his irises, there is also a bit of grey, and maybe even some green. But Dave couldn’t really tell unless he looked real hard.

Whatever the case, he thinks Karkat has _really_ gorgeous eyes, perfect for the artist that he is. And even perfect is starting to sound like an understatement.

Dave considers that maybe Karkat’s eyes could hold the _universe_ in them, if Karkat wanted them to, and _god_ , does Dave want to drown in it. So he does.

They sit and stare like this for what feels like a millennium.

Dave can feel his heart racing against his chest. He’s scared Karkat will notice, somehow, as if his heart is actually, visibly pounding against his rib cage. And then it gets too much – he feels something get stuck in his throat, wanting to get out. But Dave can’t let it, whatever _it_ is, because he has to keep a straight face. If he doesn’t, if he opens his mouth, he might say something unnecessary. He might blow his cover. And everything might fall apart.

Thankfully, Karkat is first to blink.

Dave has to stop himself from sighing heavily, so as not to look relieved.

“Sorry,” Karkat says, “I was just wondering if I should do anything else around your eyes, but I figured you might be going to the party with your dumb shades on anyway.”

Dave is confused for a second, then he laughs.

“See? This is why I was telling you I didn’t need makeup.”

“I can’t believe you actually saved them first, knowing that guy was probably going to punch you. I’m not even surprised he did anymore.”

“What can I say? I love my sunglasses.”

“I know, Dave. At least now I know you love them more than _anything_.”

“Not true. I also love music and I love y-”

Whoops. There it is.

He stops himself from saying _it_.

Karkat raises an eyebrow but, fortunately, he doesn’t ask about it.

“We should get going,” he says, checking his watch. Dave couldn’t agree more, already getting to his feet and putting his shades back on. He helps Karkat clean up and make sure nothing was left on, to save on electricity. Then they each grab their belongings and head on outside, locking their apartment door behind them.

When they arrive downstairs, Dave is unlocking the doors to his Civic, and Karkat is suddenly standing there, dubious. Dave turns to look at him, about to get in until he sees Karkat’s expression.

He raises a brow. “You OK?”

“We’re taking your car?”

“What do you mean? Of course we are. Rose’s place is two hours away. She lives in the suburbs.”

“Yeah- no, I know she does. I just- I have a thing against getting in cars I’m not familiar with.”

Dave shouldn’t be surprised, but he is.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Karkat shifts uncomfortably in his place.

“You, uh, want me to call Kanaya instead?”

Karkat shakes his head and frowns. “Nah, she’s probably already at the party. And we don’t have the time. I’ll... I’ll deal with it.”

“You sure? Because we could always-”

“Dave, don’t take me for an idiot. We can’t take the train or the bus. Rose’s place is only reachable by car, I know. Kanaya goes there all the time. Cabs are also out of the question. I’ll... I’ll be fine.” When Dave tries to argue, Karkat insists, already walking over to the passenger side of the car and getting in. “Let’s just go. I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone else.”

Dave watches him take his seat. “Well, if you say so,” he sighs.

He then gets in the driver’s seat, locks the doors, and checks his mirrors before starting the car. He’s about to push the hand brake down until Karkat tells him to put his seatbelt on first. Dave looks at him in disbelief but remembers that this is _Karkat_. So as a sign of respect, he obliges and puts his seatbelt on. _Then_ he pushes the hand brake down, switches gear, and soon, they’re off.

From the corner of his eye, Dave can see that Karkat still looks uneasy.

“You want me to play some music? Help you relax a bit?”

“I’m fine, Dave. Just- Please keep your eyes on the road.”

“OK. Roger that.”

“Are you used to driving with your shades on? Can you see the signs like that?”

“Karkat, we’re talking about _me_ , here. The only time I don’t wear my shades is when I go to bed, when I go to the bathroom, and when you oh-so-fondly want to caress my cheeks.”

“I- Wait, what? No- Don’t even answer that. Just- Dave, please tell me we’ll be OK.”

Dave sighs.

“We’ll be OK.”

Karkat stares at him, before finally resting against his seat.

“OK.”

\- - -

The drive to Rose’s was long. Well, it _felt_ long, longer than usual. Dave guesses it can’t be helped. Every time he had tried to start a conversation or play some music, Karkat argued that it might distract him and lead to something worse. So Dave had no choice but to drive in silence. It seemed to put Karkat at ease, at least. To some extent. He’d sunk into his seat and stayed like that for the duration of the trip, clearly still uncertain if Dave’s driving skills were trustworthy.

It’s only when they arrive at the gate to Rose’s lot that Karkat sits back up and looks out the window.

Rose lives on top of a hill, miles away from the nearest house. They even had to cross a bridge to get there, and Karkat wonders why anyone would even live this far from civilization. He also wonders why Kanaya is willing to travel all the way here all the time just to see Rose, but then he supposes that’s just how relationships work.

The lot that Rose’s house – or mansion, more like – is on is, by itself, _pretty fucking huge_. And to Karkat, that’s an understatement.

But everything else, Karkat notices while Dave drives past the metal bars, seems rather typical for a lot with a mansion – circular driveway, fountain at the center surrounded by grass, a garage for cars on one side, outdoor parking spaces for guests (which, at this hour, is already full of cars), the entire lot surrounded by pine trees, and so on. The mansion itself seems pretty traditional, though Karkat had pegged Rose to be more interested in modern architecture. Either way, the place seems very sophisticated, very _Rose_.

“There’s a pool behind this, isn’t there?” Karkat asks Dave, still staring out the window.

Dave, looking for a space to park his Civic, laughs. “Yeah, and a waterfall, too.”

“Fuck, _really?_ Called it.”

Dave laughs a second time.

When he finally parks his car, both he and Karkat slowly step out of it. Numerous people in various costumes are with them outside, eager to get indoors where the party’s really at. Dave follows the crowd like it’s the most natural thing to do, but Karkat looks like he’d rather not step a foot near anyone else. Luckily, Dave sees this, so he offers him a hand and flashes his zombie of a friend a toothy, vampire smile.

Karkat judgingly stares at him at first, but it successfully makes him laugh. He gives in, takes Dave’s hand, and they walk in together.

The place is bursting with people and music roaring from all around. People are _everywhere_ , and they had only just stepped inside the entrance hall. The place is just _full_ of people, from the two front doors to the winding stairs on both sides and to the doorways leading to the other rooms. From where they’re standing, Karkat can see that there are even _more_ people outside by the pool. He wonders just how many people are even in here. Probably a hundred, maybe two, maybe more. With this big a lot? Probably even _more_ than that.

He’s got to hand it to Rose, though. She did a great job with the decorations, consisting mostly of what you’d expect from a Halloween party: skeletons, pumpkins, bats, cobwebs, and the like. Hanging from the rather high ceiling are streamers of purple, orange, and black, and together with them are a few life-like witches on broomsticks. There are also a number of spotlights that haven’t yet been switched on. They’re probably being saved for tonight when it gets dark, and Karkat admittedly finds himself looking forward to seeing them in use. He wonders what colors they’ll be. For now, only the chandeliers have been switched on, each bulb emitting bright, orange lights.

Karkat continues to look around, seeing that the people themselves are commendable for their costumes. There are pirates as well as knights, princes and princesses, kings and queens, rogues and warriors, vampires and werewolves, wizards and witches, zombies and survivors, and plenty more. Karkat can honestly just stand in the sidelines and watch people interact with each other because there are just _so_ many things to look at, from the realistic scar one particular girl put across her leg, to the massive machete one guy is holding up for everyone to see, and even to the lovely detail one couple put on their royal clothing. Karkat wouldn’t be surprised if they are or if they know actual princes and princesses.

But this isn’t why Karkat came to the party. He didn’t come here to admire people in costumes, although he probably would have if he were in any _other_ Halloween party. But this is Rose’s party, and Rose is Dave’s friend. Karkat decided to attend this party for _Dave_.

Who is apparently too busy talking to familiar faces.

Karkat sighs. He ought to think this kind of thing couldn’t be avoided. After all, Dave has known Rose for a very long time. He’s bound to know several people here. And anyway, he seems to be having a lot of fun, as though this is where he’s always meant to be, around people – around _other_ people. His smile and his laugh and his jokes seem to come out more naturally, too. It makes Karkat seem and feel...

Out of place.

Karkat doesn’t _mind_ being around people. Talking to them just doesn’t come as easy if he doesn’t know what to talk about. He isn’t really all that good at talking to strangers, either, because he usually scares them off with the tone of his voice and the constant sour look on his face, something he doesn’t always mean to keep. He’d rather talk to friends and to other people close to him, people he feels comfortable around. For example, right now, he’d really, _really_ rather be talking to Dave.

But he can’t bring himself to bother him, not when Dave is enjoying himself. So Karkat decides to just stand there, watch Dave as he goes on and on about things Karkat isn’t very familiar with. Hopefully, Dave doesn’t really notice. The last thing Karkat wants is for him to feel like he has to entertain _him_.

But Dave does notice.

He turns to him after the group he was talking to leaves, and he sees that Karkat isn’t really doing much else, except for keeping him company.

Dave frowns.

“You OK?”

Karkat looks at him, the question catching him off-guard.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re not enjoying the party?”

“No, it’s cool. I... like looking people’s costumes.”

“Heh. I figured you would.”

“Like people’s costumes?”

“That, and stare at people. It’s very, well, _you_.”

Karkat rolls his eyes.

“I don’t stare, Dave.”

“Yes, you do, actually.”

Karkat doesn’t even say anything to argue, defeated. Dave laughs.

“Come on, I know what you need.”

They’ve long let go of each other’s hands but Dave takes Karkat’s once more and drags him through the sea of people. Karkat, surprised, resists at first, but knowing Dave and his persistence, eventually gives in and follows him into the kitchen.

The kitchen is just as large as any other part of the house and is just as full of people in outrageous costumes. But Karkat doesn’t have the time to study each and every one because Dave is pulling him to the coolers, where he then grabs two six-packs of beer. Karkat is about to ask what mischievous plan Dave has under his sleeve, but Dave just tells him to trust him. So he does.

Karkat allows Dave to lead him to a more secluded area of the mansion, up the stairs to the second floor, and through the hallways where there are fewer and fewer people the further they move along. Karkat is having the strangest suspicions that Dave is up to no good, especially when he brings him to a room at the very end of one hallway.

Inside the room, there isn’t much except for a line of bookshelves, a few paintings, a couch, and a stereo system. And in here, the music coming from the party is only barely heard.

Dave shuts the door and flashes Karkat a cheeky grin. Karkat just looks at him questioningly.

“You’re not here to seduce me with alcohol and music, are you?”

“What?” Dave laughs, dropping to the couch. “No way, man. I just brought you here to hang out.”

Karkat stands in place. “If you just wanted to hang out, we could have stayed home. You should go back out there with your friends.”

“Just me? But we’re friends, too, aren’t we?”

“Yes?” Karkat raises a brow. “I mean- of course we are.”

“Well, I’m here. With you. And we’re friends. So where’s the problem?”

“But what about your other-”

Dave laughs a second time. “Don’t worry, Karkat, I don’t want to abandon any of my friends. That includes you. We can just chill here for a while then head back when we feel like it, OK? I get tired of people sometimes, too, believe it or not.”

Karkat groans. He continues to stand there until Dave taps the space next to him, which just causes Karkat to groan again, but he gives in and finally walks over to the couch.

“So what now? It’s not like there’s anything to do in here.”

The moment Karkat takes his seat, Dave happily jumps to his feet and walks over to the stereo.

“I’m glad you asked!”

Karkat watches him. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“So, you once told me you don’t like clubbing-”

“I really don’t. _Dave_ , what are you-”

“-But you can’t tell me you don’t like _dancing_.”

Dave fiddles through his pockets for his phone before pulling it out and searching the speakers for a wire or any sign of a Bluetooth feature. When he finds that they do have one, he’s quick to plug them in, switch them on, and connect them to his phone. He doesn’t waste a second and immediately starts searching his phone for something to play.

Karkat is looking at him in disbelief.

Before he can ask Dave if he’s serious, Dave plays an upbeat song and jumps in position. Then, in the small space in front of Karkat, he starts dancing – or at least, he _tries_ to.

Though he does put up a fight, it’s hard for Karkat to keep himself from laughing. Dave looks absolutely _ridiculous_ , swaying his hips rather stiffly and waving his arms unnecessarily.

Dave watches him and grins.

“No? Not this song?”

“No, Dave, not in a million years.”

“OK, how about this one?”

Dave picks a different song. Karkat hides his smile and shakes his head no, so Dave just looks for something else to play.

This goes on for a few minutes, with Karkat watching as Dave stubbornly tries to find the right song. He doesn’t even stop dancing, moving his hips even when there isn’t any music playing. At one point, he nearly trips over his cape, and Karkat gets up to help him, but Dave insists he’s fine. Once he regains his balance, he carries on dancing.

Karkat, worried that Dave might hurt himself, is about to stop him from continuing any further – that is, until Becky G’s “ _Can’t Stop Dancin’_ ” plays, and he hears that hint of Mexican heritage in the song’s chorus.

When Karkat freezes, Dave sees the look of shock in his eyes and _beams_.

“No. Freaking. _Way._ You’re weak against Latin-American hip hop?” he asks, though he doesn’t give Karkat any time to reply, “Wait, hold on. Let me play something faster.”

“Dave, that’s really not necessa-”

When Dave plays the Spanish version of “ _Play It Again_ ,” Karkat _loses it_.

Karkat actually raises an arm and _sings_ the goddamn song. When the verse starts, he’s bobbing his head to the beat like there’s no tomorrow – and then once the base hits, he’s swaying his body back and forth like he doesn’t give a shit about what Dave has to say about it. During the chorus, he starts to sing along again and does this sort of tiny _hopping_ and _swaying in place_ kind of thing that Dave thinks is _beyond_ cute.

Dave is grinning from ear to ear, amused by how Karkat even mouths the rap in the second verse. He’s waving at Dave to come over and dance with him, because it _was_ Dave’s idea to dance in the first place. Of course, Dave complies without a second thought.

And together, they dance.

Karkat sings all the Spanish lines and Dave understands nothing whatsoever, but it’s fine because he never even expected Karkat to have this much _fun_ , least of all to be singing and dancing wholeheartedly. They’re jumping up and down now, while Dave’s increasing the volume, and Karkat’s practically yelling the lyrics at this point.

But the song only lasts so long. Karkat sings and dances to the very end of it, sure, but Dave is afraid he’ll want to stop after that.

On the contrary, and much to Dave’s surprise, once the song ends, Karkat grabs a bottle of beer, pops it open, and tells Dave to find the next song. He also tells him, after taking a sip of the alcohol, that he needs to be drunk to keep on dancing. Dave, smiling, can’t find it in him to mind. He _did_ grab the beer for a reason. So he looks for the next song to play and they dance to it together.

What started as a small joke for Dave turns into about an hour or two of random dancing – swaying hips, waving arms, jumping up and down, spinning around, bumping heads once or twice, falling, laughing. In the middle of everything, Dave had to take off his cape because it got in the way. And anyway, dancing, even randomly, is a lot of work, so even Karkat had to take his jacket off. Dave thinks he looks silly because the bluish tints on his arms end at a certain point. He makes sure his thoughts are known to Karkat who then just tells him to shut up.

They dance to a few more songs, Dave having a drink or two while Karkat finishes a whole pack of beer. It doesn’t even occur to Dave that this might not be a good sign.

When Karkat picks up two more bottles, one for each of them, a slower-paced song starts to play. Dave is fidgeting to find a faster song, but Karkat takes his phone and places it on the couch. Dave, confused, is passed an open bottle of beer.

Karkat takes a sip from his own.

“Slow is nice sometimes, too,” he mumbles, standing in front of Dave, “Lets us breathe for a while.”

Dave, still confused, is staring up at Karkat who’s now swaying slowly from side to side. When Dave doesn’t move to follow, Karkat groans and places a hand on Dave’s hip to guide him. Dave is flustered. He wants to step away and grab his phone, but Karkat’s hand is _firm_ – and the way he’s staring into Dave’s eyes is insisting that Dave should stay.

So he does.

It’s nearing the end of the first verse when Dave finally relaxes and sways with Karkat. None of them say a word, although Karkat _does_ move to take Dave’s shades off. Surprised, Dave protests, but Karkat had already tossed his shades to the couch next to his phone. Karkat turns back to Dave, whose cheeks and ears are as pink as cotton candy, and he continues to stare into Dave’s eyes, which are now exposed and bare for him to see.

It’s sometimes difficult for Dave to remember that Karkat is at least two inches taller than him, but up close like this, Dave can’t help but feel so small.

“You know,” Karkat whispers, as the song continues to play and they continue to move, “You should stop hiding your eyes. They’re a nice mix of orange and gold, do you realize that? They go pretty damn well with your stupid blonde hair.”

Dave just stares at him, cheeks growing warmer. Though he doesn’t reply, Karkat doesn’t say any more either. He keeps his hand on Dave’s hip, and his eyes locked onto Dave’s, for the duration of the song. Dave can’t bring himself to pull away, and neither can he tell if this was real or if he was just dreaming.

But it most definitely feels like a dream.

He sure hopes it is, because his heart is racing again and he’s almost convinced Karkat is aware of it. Karkat never takes his eyes off Dave’s, and Dave can feel himself melting in them. He’d never expected to be caught in something twice within the last few hours, least of all in Karkat’s arms. And Dave doesn’t know what to do about it. A part of him is screaming, telling him this isn’t something _friends_ do. It’s telling him that this is a sign to go for more, to lean in and claim something for himself for once while he still has the chance.

And _god_ , does he really, _really_ want to listen to himself sometimes.

But of course, all things come to an end. When the song ends, so does the moment.

Now stopping, Karkat takes a sip of beer and sighs in satisfaction, and Dave is overwhelmed by the alcohol in his breath. Groaning and wrinkling his nose at the stench, Dave softly pushes Karkat off and walks over to the couch where he picks his phone up and puts his shades back on. As he stops his phone from playing anything else, Karkat mumbles a soft ‘sorry’ and drops down to the couch, and Dave forgives him.

Karkat sighs a second time and looks up at Dave, as if expecting him to sit down next to him. Dave doesn’t.

“I knew it.”

Dave looks at him, puzzled.

“This _was_ a plan to seduce me with alcohol and music.”

“What? No, it wasn’t.”

“But your face is red. And your eyes are really pretty.”

“Karkat, you do realize _you’re_ the one that took my shades off, right? And that it’s also weird for you to be telling me that.”

“Why is it weird? Is it so wrong for two friends to compliment each other?”

 _But friends don’t do this, whatever_ this _is_ , is what Dave wants to say. Instead, he says, “My eyes aren’t pretty.”

“They are.”

Karkat takes another sip of beer. Dave groans and grabs his cape, putting it back on as well.

“C’mon, let’s head back.”

This time, Karkat groans. “Already?”

“We’ve been here a while.”

“So we can stay a while longer. No one’s going to look for us.”

Dave rolls his eyes. He unplugs the stereo system, takes the remaining beer bottles, and pulls Karkat to his feet. Karkat whines about how it was Dave’s idea to come here in the first place, but Dave just passes him his jacket, grabs his hand, and brings him back to the first floor.

There, nothing seems to have changed. The entrance hall is still full of people, and the music is still just as loud. People are jumping and laughing, talking and drinking. Dave is leading Karkat through them, looking for someone they both know, because Dave’s not sure what he’ll do if he continues to be alone with his roommate.

Lo and behold, the universe grants his wish. Or curses him, depending on perspective.

“Karkat? Dave?”

A female voice calls out to them. They turn to see who it belongs to, and both Dave and Karkat are surprised.

Karkat is first to speak.

“Terezi?”

Their mutual friend, dressed in teal and red, grins the moment she walks up to them and they confirm her suspicions.

“Hey, you guys! I didn’t even know you were here. Where were you all this time?”

“Uh-” Dave can’t bring himself to speak, so Karkat speaks for him.

“Why are you here? Do you know Rose?”

“Yeah- I mean, no, not really. My friends kind of do. We all go to the same grad school.”

“Oh.”

“Kinda nostalgic, huh? How about you? Why are you guys here? I didn’t expect to see you at all!”

“Well, Rose is a really good friend of Dave’s, so we were invited.”

Terezi looks startled. She glances at Dave who seems lost, feeling as though he ought to say something to her. But before he could even figure out what to say, she smiles at both of them and speaks up first.

“You two seem like you’ve become really good friends,” she says, noting how Dave is still holding Karkat’s hand. Dave sees her looking down, so he lets go. Terezi just laughs. “I’m happy for you two. How long has it been since...?”

“About two months by now,” Karkat says, “Or getting there.”

Terezi smiles just a bit more. When she doesn’t say anything for a while, Dave suddenly feels uneasy. What she says next doesn’t make him feel any better, either.

“Hey, Dave, I’d really love to catch up with the both of you, especially since I haven’t heard from you guys in weeks, but... Would you mind if I borrowed Karkat for a bit?”

Dave tries not to frown. He looks at Karkat who’s looking back at him, patiently waiting for an answer. If Dave were to open his mouth now, he might slip and reveal that he honestly, _truly_ does not want Karkat to go. So he looks back at Terezi, who’s looking at him with a plea in her eyes that’s so subtle, Dave wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t the slightest feeling she _needed_ to talk to him.

And, really, who is Dave to keep Karkat all to himself?

Smiling, Dave gives Terezi a nod of his head. Terezi beams and mouths a soft ‘thank you,’ before she takes Karkat’s hand and leads him to a group of people Dave assumes to be her circle of friends. Dave then turns to look for Rose or John, or _anyone_ he hasn’t seen yet that night, not wanting to have second thoughts about letting Karkat go.

But what Dave doesn’t realize is that, as he’s turning away, his roommate is watching him with a worried expression.

\- - -

Dave doesn’t run into anyone familiar for some time. He feels quite bothered by the fact that, although he wanders around into different rooms, he always finds himself _looking_ for Karkat. Either that, or returning to the very room he last saw him in.

It’s a pretty tiring and dragging thirty minutes until, finally, as he’s standing in the corner of the living room, he’s approached by none other than the party’s host and her girlfriend.

Kanaya, dressed in Glinda’s yellow dress from _Wicked_ , spots him first.

“Hey Dave,” she greets him with her usual, mother-like smile, “You’re not with Karkat?”

Dave sighs. Of course she’d asked that.

“No, he’s with Terezi and her friends.”

Kanaya’s surprised, but before she’s able to respond, Rose, dressed as Elphaba, comes in and gives Dave a big, warm hug. Dave dislikes it, but he lets her do so anyway. She seems like she’s had a bit too much to drink.

“ _Daaaaave_ , where is he? Where’s Karkat?”

Dave rolls his eyes. Of course she’d ask that, too.

“Green skin actually suits you, you know.”

Rose smirks. “Thanks. I didn’t think I’d look good in a sparkly dress.”

“ _I_ think you would have looked nice,” Kanaya says in disagreement.

“Aww. Thanks, love.” Rose smiles at her sweetly. “But I still think you pull it off much better than I ever will.”

Dave makes a face. He thinks maybe he should just look for John instead, but the wicked witch turns back to him and pouts.

“You didn’t answer my question. Where’s Karkat?”

Dave sighs. “Like I just told Kanaya, he’s with Terezi and her friends.”

Rose’s lips actually form an ‘O’ before she says, “ _Ohhhh_ , are you _jealous_?”

“What- No, I’m not.”

“You are! You can’t lie to me, David.”

“Excuse me,” Kanaya interrupts, “I feel like maybe this conversation is reserved for just the two of you, so I’ll be checking up on my cousin if you need me. Dave, I trust that you can take care of my girlfriend.”

“Wait, Kanaya-”

And just like that, Dave is left with Rose who’s wiggling her eyebrows and acting ill-behaved.

“ _So_ , you seem to be getting along with Karkat. Tell me I was lying when I said you would, that time at The Mutiny. I was right, wasn’t I?”

“ _Fine_ , you were right. It didn’t start out easy, but we’re... getting along.”

Rose continues to wiggle her brows, waiting for Dave to go on. Dave groans loudly.

“If you’re going to make me confess and say I’m head over heels for him, then I’d advise you to find something else to do because I’m never going to say it.”

Rose snorts. “But Dave, you just did.”

“Shut up, Rose.”

She sighs. “Dave, humor me, please? Let’s say you do like him-”

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“-do you ever plan on telling him? Do you think he likes you, too? I don’t know him as well as Kanaya does, and I’m assuming you already know him better than I do. What’s living with him like? And don’t give me what you’ve already told me before. What is it like living with the person you have the hots for, _hmm_?”

“God damn it, Rose, I don’t even know if you’ll remember this. You’re drunk.”

“So tell me.”

Dave stares at her. She stares back, knowing she, better than anyone else, was just as persistent as he was.

He groans again.

“No.”

“ _Dave!_ ”

“Ugh! Fine! Let’s _pretend_ that I do have a thing for him-” Rose giggles “-which I don’t. It’s- Well, it’s nothing _big_ or anything.”

“What is it then?” Rose’s smile is creeping him out.

“Wait- _Jesus_ , let me think about it for a sec, OK?”

Dave continues to whine. Rose lets him. He tries to avoid the topic to the best of his capabilities, but she continues to pester him about it for what seems like ages, and Dave eventually gives up. He always gives up.

“OK, OK! It’s- I don’t know what it is. I mean, it’s not like what the movies make it to be. Maybe. I don’t know. I mean, OK, in movies and songs, they usually make it look like it’s the greatest thing, right? Kind of like watching the sunset on the beach or camping under a thousand stars or falling through the sky or finding Atlantis or some shit.”

“ _Uh-huh_.” Rose is obviously enjoying this.

“And, fine, I _did_ bring him to the beach once-”

“You did!? What happened there? Did you _kiss_?”

“Wait, shut up for a while, will you?” She does. “I’m so tired of your shit, Rose. We didn’t kiss. We kind of did see the sunset, but that was it. And on the topic of liking him – and I’m still saying let’s pretend I do – I just- I think liking _anyone_ isn’t just that. It isn’t just about watching the sunset together. It’s also about driving to the beach despite the traffic or taking the train despite how cramped it is. You don’t care how bad the traffic or the rush hour is; you just want to get to the beach, like really, _really_ want it.”

Rose giggles. Dave ignores her and continues, hoping she would leave him alone afterwards.

“It’s- I don’t know. It’s venturing the seven seas and actually _looking_ for Atlantis on the slightest chance it even exists. You’re not sure if it does, and somewhere in the back of your head, you know it actually doesn’t. You know that you will still, _probably_ , end up feeling disappointed. But it’s OK. It sucks but it’s OK, because you still want to look for it, because _you might just find it_.”

Dave sighs. “It still sounds cliché as fuck, I know. But I guess the point is that liking someone isn’t just sunshine and rainbows. It’s pretty _god damn_ heavy, scary stuff. Because it’s not always going to turn out pretty either. And I guess that’s just how, uh, it feels like. Living with him while I like him, and we’re still just pretending that I do, is pretty fucking _exhausting_. But other than that, I...”

He pauses, looking back on the time he’s shared with Karkat, and it makes him smile. As tiring as he made it sound, he’s aware he’s quite _fond_ of being around him, of being around his roommate, despite everything - despite the fact that something’s constantly tugging his heartstrings and making his chest feel _tight_.

He _likes_ being around Karkat. Even Dave can admit that much.

“You know, not that I’m admitting I do like him, but I actually did lose focus while at work yesterday and-”

When Dave turns to Rose, he sees that she’s walking away and mumbling something about more alcohol.

“God _damn it_ , Rose.”

Immediately, Dave walks up to her and takes by her arm before she does anything reckless. She’s confused for a short moment before she realizes what’s going on and snaps back to reality.

“Sorry,” she says, rubbing her temple, “I hope it doesn’t seem to you that I threw this party for the sake of getting drunk like this. Believe me when I say I’ve been sober for the last two months.”

“It’s OK,” Dave sighs, “I believe you. You’re doing a pretty good job, if you ask me.”

Rose smiles at him. “Thanks, Dave.”

Dave smiles back, but only for a moment. A memory, just then, had resurfaced in his mind and reminded him of something he’s been wanting to know for ages. So he looks at Rose, and he tells her, “Hey, there’s... something I want to ask you.”

Rose looks at him, puzzled. “What is it?”

Dave opens his mouth to speak. But it seems like the world decides that today was not Dave’s day, because before he could even utter a word, he and Rose hear a very loud _crash_. They and the people in the room turn their heads toward the direction of the sound.

It had come from the entrance hall.

Dave feels worry overwhelm him.

It’s almost blocked off by the music, but they hear Kanaya yelling, “Karkat! Karkat, _wait!_ Everyone, step away from the glass!”

Dave and Rose look at each other for just a second, before instantly walking toward Kanaya’s voice, pushing through the crowd, and yelling for them to make way. When they arrive at the scene, Dave sees that Terezi is surrounded by her friends and being held by them protectively. As though she had sensed his presence, her sea-green eyes meet his, and, while her face doesn’t necessarily show it, her eyes hold nothing but pain and worry in them.

Meanwhile, Kanaya is trying to clear the area. On the floor nearby a catering table are shards of a broken beer bottle but, thankfully, no one seems to be hurt.

Rose is quick to leave to fetch a broomstick and a dustpan to clean the mess, but Dave’s thoughts are immediately directed to Karkat.

He approaches Kanaya and asks her where Karkat had gone. Though clearly wanting to go to Karkat herself, Kanaya chooses to stay to deal with the situation. She informs Dave that Karkat had gone outside and, by the time Rose comes back, Dave is already out the door.

\- - -

The front yard is quiet. There are only a few people in sight, people Dave don’t recognize, people Dave could hardly be bothered with right now. They’re talking, minding their own business, so Dave ignores them and surveys the area in search of Karkat.

The sky is now dark, a mix of mostly deep sea blue, spots of white from the moon and stars, and a stream of orange from the street lights that have already been switched on. Dave can’t see Karkat anywhere. He knows Karkat couldn’t have gone far. He isn’t dumb enough to walk down the long road to the nearest town on his own, and neither would he go venturing into the woods, not while the trees look taller, darker, and much more menacing than they did earlier. So that just leaves the garage and the parking lot – but Karkat wouldn’t have any access to the former, so Dave heads straight for the parking lot.

There are several cars parked here, all of which are currently empty and switched off. Dave is grateful no one decided to come out here to make out yet, something he’d expected to happen, what with a huge party such as this one. More importantly, Dave is just grateful no one else is around _at all_. Because lo and behold, sitting on the pebbly ground by the Civic is the very person he’s been looking for.

Seeing Karkat with his head bowed down and his back hunched forward makes Dave’s chest _ache_.

He approaches him cautiously, though Karkat must have already known he was there because it wasn’t exactly easy to be quiet, walking on top of pebbles and stones. When Dave gets to him, Karkat doesn’t bother looking up. It worries Dave all the more, but he decides to stay calm and, rather than speak or do anything else, he takes a seat next to him.

Neither of them says a word. Karkat seems to find comfort in that, because after a while, he slowly looks at Dave who looks back at him and shows that he’s ready to listen, to whatever the Karkat has to say. He’s always ready, and willing, to listen to Karkat. But even then, they say nothing.

It only surprises Dave that Karkat straightens his back, sits against the car, and finally, rests his head on Dave’s shoulder.

Dave’s heart skips a beat.

He stays still, not really knowing what to do. And they sit like this for several minutes, though Dave doesn’t really keep track of the time because his head feels blank, as if he was still trying to take in the moment.

Time passes, and the only thing that had registered in Dave’s mind is that the stars are oddly bright that night.

It’s only when he hears footsteps approaching them does he snap back to reality and realize they’ve been sitting there for a while. He looks toward the house and sees Kanaya’s expression of concern the second time that evening.

“Is he OK?” she asks.

Dave looks to his side. Somewhere in the time they’ve been sitting there, Karkat seems to have fallen asleep.

“I think he’ll be fine. I should probably take him home, though.”

Kanaya shifts in place, looking uneasy. Dave realizes it’s a familiar habit that probably runs in the family.

“Dave, if you’d like, I could maybe look after Karkat for a few days. When these things happen, he... Well, he tends to become rather reclusive and distant, even from friends. Even from me.”

But Karkat doesn’t _feel_ reclusive or distant right now. Dave thinks he’ll be fine. Maybe.

“I think he’ll be fine. I mean, I’ve never really seen him get _angry_ before, but he was pretty reclusive when we first started living together. He would barely talk to me then, so I think I can handle it.”

“Are you certain?”

No, he’s not. But if he doesn’t see Karkat for the next few days, he knows he won’t like it either. He knows himself well enough to know he’ll worry about him.

“I’m sure,” he says.

Kanaya sighs softly, before putting on a small smile. “If you’re sure, then. I’ll be heading back inside in a while. Will you be taking your leave now?”

“I’ll probably give it a few more minutes. Is Rose OK? The guests?”

“The situation has been dealt with. It’s to be expected. This _is_ a party, after all, and these things do tend to happen. However, if Karkat were to ask, please tell him not to blame himself. Because I know he will. Tell him no one was harmed.”

“Yeah, OK. I’ll let him know. How about Terezi? Is she...? What happened anyway?”

“She’ll be alright, I suppose. I... was in the room, but she had asked to speak with him privately. The only thing I really saw was him kicking the leg of the catering table and throwing his bottle of beer to the floor. I can only assume she may have said something that... upset him, in the loose sense of the word.”

“Oh.” Dave blinks. “Uhm, OK. Well... Give Rose my thanks and let Terezi know I’m taking Karkat home, if you don’t mind?”

“Gladly.”

With that, Kanaya smiles a bit more before heading back to the party. Dave continues sit there, watching her as she leaves before he looks at Karkat who’s still asleep. It’s almost kind of peaceful like this, despite what had just happened – and Dave isn’t even sure _what_ did. But he thinks it isn’t any of his business, and he’s not sure when or even _if_ Karkat will ever tell him about it.

With a soft sigh, Dave closes his eyes, taking a bit of rest himself for just a few more minutes.

Eventually, his shoulder and arm start growing numb, and that’s when he decides it’s time to go. He gently shakes Karkat awake, whispering his name and telling him that it’s time to get up. Karkat mumbles and complains, but he cooperates when Dave brings him up to his feet and guides him into the back of the car. There, Karkat lies down on his side and takes up the entire length of the backseat.

Dave closes the door to the back before getting in and on the driver’s seat. He checks on Karkat just to see if he was comfortable, but it seems like his roommate had fallen back to sleep. Letting a soft huff escape him, Dave puts on his seatbelt, starts the car, and drives on home. While still on Rose’s lot, Dave also makes sure to take his shades off and place them aside. He doesn’t really see the point of wearing them now, and the way that Karkat was sleeping in the back just makes him look... _fragile_ , like a tired child being brought home by his parents after a late Friday night out. He almost seems like an entirely different person.

Dave doesn’t want to take any risks.

\- - -

Getting Karkat to the apartment proved to be more difficult than Dave had thought it would be. Karkat, still half-asleep, is much heavier than he looked, especially while supporting him and guiding him up a flight of stairs. However, once inside the apartment, it isn’t too hard to bring him to his room and guide him to bed.

But the difficulties don’t end there.

In the morning, Karkat doesn’t get up in time for breakfast. Neither does he get up in time for mass. Dave eats breakfast alone, washes the dishes alone, and heads out to do some grocery shopping alone. By the time he arrives back home, Karkat’s door is locked and Dave can’t tell if he had even stepped out of his room. Judging by the untouched bowl and cereal box that Dave placed on the counter, he can only guess that Karkat probably hadn’t.

Dave doesn’t see Karkat for the rest of the day.

And the days that follow are just as quiet. Karkat doesn’t stay pent up in his bedroom, but he doesn’t say much during breakfasts either. Dave tolerates it for the first few days, but it starts to become unbearable as the week flies by and it’s Saturday again. Dave thinks maybe a favorite movie or two will cheer him up, but Karkat doesn’t speak up much then either except for when he needs to.

It worries Dave because he’s not sure how long this will continue to go on, but he only feels worse because he’s not sure what he himself is even _supposed_ to say.

The weekend rolls on by, and Karkat misses mass a second time and has not yet said a word.

Gradually, as a few more days pass by, Dave realizes that, since the party, something had started to seem off about Karkat in the mornings. It isn’t just that he wasn’t saying much; he’d also started waking up later than usual, just by minutes at first but eventually by an hour at least, once even by two or three. And he never seems to be in a good mood anymore. Rather, his temper seems to be getting worse, even when Dave asks for the simplest things.

It’s during one of these mornings, when Dave comes home and Karkat is still asleep, that Dave decides to check the trash. And, upon finding several beer cans, Dave feels a wave disgust build up inside him. But it wasn’t due to the fact that Karkat had been drinking without telling him. He couldn’t help that. Dave feels disgusted - or perhaps better yet, _disappointed_ that he still doesn’t know what to do about it. He’s not even sure if he _could_ do anything.

So he doesn’t. At least not until Saturday comes and they have an unannounced visitor.

Dave and Karkat are silently having Chinese takeout for lunch on the counter, when they hear keys unlocking the door to their home. Karkat looks up, slightly puzzled, but doesn’t move from his place. It’s Dave who’s surprised enough to get off his seat.

When the door opens, their guest greets them with an embarrassed smile.

“Look who still has their keys to this place,” he says.

“John!” Dave practically jogs over to him, confused, “Hey, man. What’s up? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming over?”

John looks at him, then at Karkat who gets to his feet but remains where he is, before he turns back to Dave with a frown. “I need your help,” he says.

“Why? What’s up? What happened?”

“It’s about Roxy.”

This, for some reason, piques Karkat’s interest enough to approach both John and Dave.

Dave doesn’t mind him for now. Instead, he keeps his eyes on John. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“We were just at The Mutiny the other day when a couple of guys I know decided to check it out. They’re a bunch of stand-ups like me, so we started helping each other with jokes and stuff. And it was fine and everything at first. Roxy even served us free food, saying it was on the house, and it makes me feel worse because, see- The guys, they started coming up with drunk jokes because we were at a bar, right? And-”

“John. Don’t tell me they- Don’t tell me _you_ joked about Roxy’s drinking problems. You _know better_ than that.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“ _John_!”

“I mean- I know I should have stopped them, but they were fun guys and- I didn’t _think_ it was that bad because Roxy quit drinking a long time ago. Now she won’t talk to me, man, and I-”

“You didn’t think,” Karkat intervenes, “That’s it. That’s the problem.”

Dave and John look at him. John in particular is taken aback, while Dave is looking at Karkat like he’s not sure what Karkat’s trying to do.

“You’re saying you joked about the insecurities of the woman you’ve been dating for three years.” Karkat scoffs. “How much of an _airhead_ can you be?”

“Look, I know it wasn’t right and I didn’t mean to offend her, OK? I’m not that _dumb_.”

“Did you apologize?”

“What?”

“Did. You. Apologize?”

John’s eyes widen. When he looks down and doesn’t answer, Karkat almost _laughs_.

“So you’re coming in here, asking for our help like you’re the victim and saying you meant no offense, but you don’t have the guts to _apologize_? I’m sorry, I’m not sure you know what the definition of dumb even is.”

“ _Karkat_.” Dave grabs him by the shoulder, but Karkat shakes him off easily.

“I’m going to make an intelligent guess here and assume that you’ve lived a _perfect_ life up until now, because anyone who’s gone through _shit_ knows they’re not supposed to _cross the line_. Look, you’re probably a good guy, but you can’t be dating someone and _forget_ that it’s not OK to joke about some things, least of all the things that bother them the most.”

“I know but I- Look, I’m not the brightest guy around, I know that already. I can’t help it if I-”

“If you _what_? Forget something as important as that? Are you even _trying_ to come up with excuses? Because that is a really horrible excuse. It’s so bad I’m almost feel embarrassed _for_ you.”

“Karkat, dude, you need to stop-”

“Dave. Stay out of it.”

Dave stares in utter disbelief. “ _Stay out of it_? Karkat, you’re talking to _my_ best friend here. If anyone had to stay out of it, it’s-”

John mutters something before any of the men can carry on arguing. They’re confused, and when Karkat tells (or demands) John to speak up, John says, “I can’t help it sometimes, _OK_? I’ve always been like this and it’s always been fine with everyone! No one’s- They’ve never really complained about it before. _Dave’s_ never complained about it before, and I used to joke about his brother all the time, and I- _Shit_. What if I’m not cut out for this?”

Karkat grows even more confused. “Cut out for what?”

“I- You know how it’s fine to be shitty when you’re joking with friends, right? What if I’m not cut out for anything beyond that, beyond just being _friends_ with people? What if I’m not cut out for _dating_ anybody? What if- _God_ , what if I’m not cut out for dating _Roxy_? She’s too nice for me, and I-”

Karkat slaps him square on the cheek, unable to take it anymore. Dave is horrified.

“Karkat! _Jesus Christ_ , dude! Was that necessary!?”

“OK, now you’re just talking _nonsense_ ,” Karkat spouts, ignoring Dave entirely, “First of all, it’s _not_ OK- It is _never_ OK to be a shitty friend. That’s not what friends _do_. Sure, there’s some room for bad jokes, but it’s not always _OK_.

“Second of all, if you weren’t the least bit worthy of her, she wouldn’t have dated you for three years. You’re panicking because you _know_ you’re wrong and the only way for you to fix it is to _go back_ and _apologize_ , but you’re still a little too _proud_ about yourself to do so. Well, guess what, _jackass_? _Pride_ isn’t going to help you with this, not today.”

John, still staring at the floor, is rubbing his cheek. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and Dave is _furious_. But before Dave can say anything, John finally speaks, though his voice is soft and hurt.

“You’re right,” John says, “Sorry I came all the way here for such an obvious answer. I’ll... I’ll head back now.”

“Right now?” Dave turns to him, concerned, “You sure you don’t want to stay a while? I can get some ice for you for your cheek.”

“It’s OK, Dave. I deserved it,” John says with a small smile, “And anyway, the longer I stay here, the later I get to make it up to Roxy.”

Dave can’t say he’s wrong, but he wants John to stay a while longer, because he looks so _crushed_. However, John doesn’t give him the chance to insist. He bids them good bye, says maybe they can catch up later to make up for the fact they didn’t see each other at Rose’s party, and leaves.

Dave turns to Karkat.

“What the _fuck_ , dude?”

“What?” Karkat snarls, walking back to the counter. Dave follows him. “He was an idiot for doing that to her.”

“Maybe, but you didn’t have to _yell_ at the poor guy, or slap him even! Seriously, what is _wrong_ with you?”

“What is wrong with _me_? If _my_ best friend didn’t hit me to get my head out of the clouds, I’d think something was wrong with _them_.”

“Oh, so _I’m_ at fault now?”

“Relax,” Karkat groans, stuffing his mouth with fried rice, “He’s going to be fine.”

Dave isn’t having it.

“What is with you? You’re not yourself lately.”

Karkat looks at him, but he doesn’t say anything until he continues to eat again. “Trust me, Dave, I’m like this all the time. I don’t think you know me well enough to start calling me out on my shit just yet.”

“No, but I know you’re not fit to be giving advice to anyone about certain things,” Dave snaps.

Karkat looks at him again, except this time, he keeps his eyes on Dave.

“ _I’m_ not fit to give advice?” He pauses, smirking a bit before turning his attention back to his food. “I saw you taking the trash out the other day, so I know you know I’ve been drinking. And besides that, even if I didn’t see you throw out the trash, I remember the first time we started actually talking to each other. You found me _drunk_ that morning. You brought me home _drunk_ two weeks ago. I know you know by now that I can be a bad drunk, so I think I’m pretty goddamn fit to be telling someone off when they’re making fun of...”

He stops, just now realizing. Looking at Dave, Karkat sees that he wants to say something, and that he’s keeping himself from saying it.

When Dave stays quiet, Karkat asks, “This is about something else entirely, isn’t it?”

Dave is surprised. Karkat’s face is stern, inviting him to voice out his thoughts.

So he does.

“I... I don’t think you’re fit to give any sort of advice on _relationships_ , Karkat.”

“What?” It’s not the answer Karkat’s expecting.

“You and Terezi- You were talking about something at the party, and you _smashed_ a fucking beer bottle to the floor.”

“You weren’t there-”

“I wasn’t. But I _saw_ her. Everyone saw her. She was _hurt_ , Karkat. I don’t know what she said, and neither do I know what really went down, but she was _hurt_. Not cut or anything, but whatever you said, whatever you did, it still _hurt her_.”

Karkat flinches, looking away now.

“Shut up,” he mutters.

“ _Oh?_ What’s this? Acting a little proud now, are we?”

“I said, _shut up_!”

“Gee, Karkat, I’m not even sure you _apologized_ to her yet.”

Karkat slams his fist against the marble surface in front of him, and it startles Dave. But what shocks Dave more is that - in Karkat’s eyes there is that same kind of hurt that Dave had seen in Terezi’s two weeks ago.

“You don’t know _shit_ , Dave,” is the last thing Karkat says before he gets up and walks out the front door.

It all happens so fast that Dave doesn’t even get to register _what_ had happened until he can actually feel the room’s atmosphere change into something worse, something heavy.

And he’s left standing there, all by himself in the eerie silence.

\- - -

It’s already been five hours and Karkat hasn’t come back yet.

Dave is starting to worry because the sky is growing dark and cloudy. He’s lying on the couch, waiting.

An hour later, it starts to rain. Karkat still hasn’t returned.

In Dave’s hand is his mobile phone. He’s tried to call Karkat several times now, but he should have expected that Karkat wouldn’t answer them. Or his text messages. So he leaves Karkat alone for now.

He wonders if Karkat will even come back for the night or stay out until late like he used to. Was he always out drinking then, too? Was he always losing his temper, long before Dave found him drunk on the couch?

Then what was with all the lovely mornings and mouth-watering breakfasts? What was with showing worry and concern for a cat, or for Dave when Dave had gotten punched in the face? What was with the way they lied in the sand together on the beach? What was that when they chased each other and got sand in their hair? What was that when they jumped up and down at the party? What was it when they laughed? When they danced slowly? When Karkat placed a hand on Dave’s hip? His head on Dave’s shoulder?

What _was_ that when he said Dave had pretty eyes?

Was he just drunk?

Dave groans. Maybe he’d become too enamoured – if that was even an appropriate word to use – with Karkat that he couldn’t see Karkat’s flaws. But he did, didn’t he? He saw how Karkat wasn’t always a very open person. He saw how Karkat wasn’t very good with crowds or with people. He saw how Karkat got irritated easily, and how easily tired he can get.

Was there more to it than that?

Dave starts to suspect that maybe Karkat’s right. Maybe Dave _doesn’t_ know him that well.

Dave frowns. He’s not sure what to do.

Scrolling through his contacts, he wonders if he should call Kanaya. But she’ll probably just get worried. And anyway, Karkat isn’t a _child_ , no matter how many times Dave thought he acted like one.

He thinks he should call John to make sure he’s fine, but maybe he’s still working things out with Roxy.

He _could_ call Rose, but he’s not sure what to say to her. He’s already told her too much, and he’s not even sure she remembers that.

Calling Jane seems out of the question. Or maybe not. Maybe talking to someone who has nothing to do with this entire situation might help ease Dave’s mind. But Dave still wouldn’t know what to say.

Maybe his boss? _Nah._ She couldn’t be bothered. Not when she didn’t even know all that much about Karkat. Probably just that Dave has a huge crush on him.

He scrolls back and forth until, by chance, he lands on his brother’s name.

Staring at it, Dave traces circles around his screen. He has an internal debate as to whether or not he should even try – but he guesses it’s probably worth a shot.

He hits _Call_ and lightly presses his phone to his ear. There’s ringing, and it goes on for a while.

But it eventually leads him to voice mail.

Dave sighs. He should have known.

He shuts his phone then tosses it to the coffee table and closes his eyes.

\- - -

Minutes pass, but Dave’s not sure how many. The rain sounds like it’s grown harder and Dave can hear thunder in the distance. He decides to listen to the rain falling against the windows, the sound of cars driving by puddles, the wind howling, the roaring in the clouds that’s coming closer, the cats screeching at each other, dogs barking, somebody crazy enough to skateboard down the street, the voice uttering _‘fuck’_ behind the front door.

Dave sits up.

He looks at the front door and hears someone looking for their keys like they’d forgotten them. Without thinking, Dave rushes to the door and opens it.

Karkat’s startled and soaking wet. In one hand, he has a plastic bag full of beer cans.

They stare at each other. Karkat’s frozen in place. Dave has one hand awkwardly resting against the doorframe. When he realizes this, he flinches and steps aside so Karkat can come in. He does.

Dave shuts the door while Karkat sets the plastic bag on the floor to free himself from his soaking jacket. Dave doesn’t move, just watches water drip down Karkat’s skin.

When Karkat brings the plastic bag to the coffee table and drops on the couch, Dave follows after him.

They sit there. And after a while of saying nothing, Karkat leans forward and grabs a can of beer for himself. He pops it open and takes a sip, still not saying a word.

It’s like this for a few more minutes.

Dave looks at him, but Karkat doesn’t look back. So Dave decides to get up and walk to the bathroom. He doesn’t see it, but Karkat follows him with his eyes.

He comes back with a towel and tosses it to Karkat’s head, and Karkat is startled. But he takes it, stares at it, then places the beer down, and dries himself. When he finishes, he drops the towel on the table and picks his beer back up.

He doesn’t look at Dave. Not for a while. When he does, Dave looks back at him.

They stare at each other for about half a minute.

Tired, and without saying a word, Dave softly exhales. He then takes a beer can for himself. Karkat watches him.

Dave looks at Karkat once again, raises his can, and says:

“Cheers.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: PLEASE DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE. I may have allowed Dave to drive with a bit of alcohol in his system, but I do NOT encourage that you do so as well. I am a responsible adult and I would feel bad if any of you, my readers, get hurt. ;_;
> 
> ALSO: I may not be able to update until AFTER July 13. There are things I have to do but would rather not be doing, but the next chapter should be shorter and so the wait should be as well. Hopefully.
> 
> -
> 
> This chapter is inspired by several DJs and hip hop artists, particularly Hardwell (DJ) and Becky G (hip hop artist). I normally don't attend parties or go to clubs (although I do like dancing), so I hope I did this chapter justice. ;v;
> 
> Let me know if you want me to include links to the songs I mention in my work. I'll be sure to edit the end notes with them! (There are three songs mentioned here, and there's another one in Chapter 1. xD)
> 
> This chapter is also inspired by the film, "Ten-Inch Hero." :33
> 
> Luckily, the recent Homestuck updates have been inspiring me as well! xD
> 
> That's about it, I think! Again, please go easy on me. This is the first fic I've written in a long, long time and it's a chapter fic to boot. Ahahaha. :'3


	4. Bonus!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!! I made a few quick sketches as a bonus because, as mentioned in the previous chapter, I may not be able to update until after July 13! I'm not even sure I'll be able to write as much before then. ;v;
> 
> So, yeah, to make up for it, I drew these! UuU
> 
> Also! If you want to contact me outside of AO3, my tumblr URLs are thesedragons (main blog) and aikachii (art blog)! If you don't have a tumblr, you can also catch me on twitter, @aika413!
> 
> That is all~ ;v;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I hope you enjoyed that! XD
> 
> If it wasn't clear, they were pretending to be models in front of a mirror. ;v;
> 
> Note that this doesn't actually happen either. Just a bonus! xD
> 
> OH. Before I forget! Karkat's Halloween costume was inspired by the Hunter from the video game 'Left 4 Dead'! :33


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